The History of Legolas: I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar
by Vendie of Rivendell
Summary: Part III of the History of Legolas series. A continuation of what was not included in the Red Book; Legolas' travels to Imladris and beyond as a member of the Fellowship, and how his heart came to hearken to the call of the Sea.
1. Prologue

**The History of Legolas – Part III  
**I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
_The Sea Calls Us Home_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"_To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,  
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.  
West, west away, the round sun is falling.  
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,  
The voices of my people that have gone before me?  
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;  
For our days are ending and our years failing.  
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing.  
Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,  
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,  
In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,  
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!"_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Legolas' "Song of the Sea,"  
The Field of Cormallen,  
__The Return of the King_


	2. Nâ I Onnad

**The History of Legolas – Part III  
**_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar__  
__The Sea Calls Us Home_  
By Vendie

**Author's Note:** The Lord of the Rings and all associated characters belong to Tolkien and his estate. I am not making any profit off of this story, save the enjoyment I had making it.

This is the third and final installment of The History of Legolas series (which was previously a sequel, not part of the original trilogy). This story is almost entirely re-written and I would definitely encourage all who are interested to re-read it and see what's changed… because there's not a chapter herein I didn't majorly revise. I didn't set out to make so many substantive changes, actually, but once I started edits these characters just went off on their own, I swear.

I would like to make clear from the beginning that what I originally set out to do was to get inside Legolas' head a bit about the Sea Longing, and what, if anything besides the Sea itself, would cause a Wood Elf to sail West. This is in part a love story; but no Tenth Walker.

Before we get started, I want to give a quick hat tip to the Elvish resources on Arwen-Undomiel, Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary, and Ardalambion.

I'd also like to acknowledge some of the authors whose writing has been inspirational and instructive to my own writing, especially as I revisited this story. You can find their stories in my "favorites" section, and I really do recommend you check them out! Thanks to Starlight9, Nilmandra, Thundera Tiger, Scribe, and VanaTheEverYoung (who may be found on Open Scrolls Archive).

Thank you for your interest in my writing, and without further delay, please enjoy the story!

Blessings,

Vendie

* * *

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
The Sea Calls Us Home_  
Chapter One – Nâ I Onnad

"I think, my lord, we are being followed."

Legolas turned to his right to see Eregdos, one of the elves appointed to guard the emissary to Imladris, riding next to him.

"Aye, I have sensed it also," the prince replied softly as he returned his gaze to the road ahead.

A week ago, Legolas had departed his father's halls to deliver the message to Elrond that Gollum had escaped their custody and fled to the south of Mirkwood. Two of his father's advisors, Saelon and Gelir, accompanied Legolas, as well as a handful of Mirkwood warriors to ensure safe passage. The party was near the borders of the forest now, but almost two days out of the Elvenking's halls, Legolas had noticed a presence nearby. Whatever was skulking behind them seemed not inclined to inflict harm upon the elves, because it had not attacked – not yet, anyway. But the strangest part of this development was that Legolas somehow was under the impression that the presence behind them was very familiar. If it was of the Eldar, however, he or she had disguised their fëa.

"I think that when we reach the borders of the forest, we might rest a bit and attempt to discover this shadow we've acquired," Legolas said to Eregdos. The guard nodded and pushed his steed forward ahead of the party slightly, back to the position he had been in previously.

"What was that about?" A nasal voice asked from slightly behind him. Legolas turned his head to see his father's advisor, Gelir, looking him up and down as if making an appraisal of the prince.

"Matters of security that are of a need-to-know nature," Legolas replied evenly, returning his gaze to over the head of his horse.

"I think, my prince, that as we are in just as much danger as you, we are entitled to know," Gelir replied haughtily.

"I think, sir, that as your prince and one of the captains of Mirkwood's armies, you should not question what I say."

The advisor made a sort-of frustrated twittering noise and turned to his fellow advisor, Saelon and made some remark that Legolas did not give any heed. The prince shook his head. It had been quite obvious since the start of this journey that Gelir thought himself in charge of the group, even though the Elvenking, Thranduil, had explained very clearly that Legolas was to be lead ambassador to Imladris and should be given full deference.

This journey promised to be long, Legolas thought to himself, given the circumstances.

Near nightfall, the emissary reached the borders of Mirkwood and decided to camp near the trees. After their camp was established, Legolas and two of the guards decided to backtrack into the forest to find what was on their tail.

"Why must you leave also, Prince?" Gelir questioned when he discovered Legolas' plans to accompany the guards. "Is this duty not best suited for soldiers?"

"Aye, it is. Pity that I am a soldier, is it not?" Legolas asked clapping his hand on the elder elf's back and offering him a wry smile. Gelir, not amused by the prince's patronizing behavior, pointed his nose in the air once more and protested. This time, Saelon quieted him.

"Be still, Gelir," the second ambassador said. "Prince Legolas may not be as long as you are in years and smartness, but he has wisdom. The Elvenking did not send us with him to elfling-sit. He is the leader of this party and we shall let him be on his way. Come, do not sulk!" Saelon laughed as his fellow diplomat frowned.

"Go, Prince Legolas. We shall await you here," Saelon added, nodding. Legolas smiled back at his father's advisor.

"Thank you," he said before walking off with Eregdos and Maethoron.

The elves entered the forest and then split up, walking forward with about two yards between them. Legolas made a hand signal to the other two, indicating which attack pattern he intended on using. It was an old hunting technique his brothers taught him long ago. Eregdos and Maethoron signaled that they understood and went off to get into position around the clearing where their stalker seemed to have stopped. Whatever or whomever was there barely making noise as it moved, but all three hunters could still sense it acutely. They waited.

As Legolas crouched in the brush just past the clearing, he took an arrow out of his quiver and tapped the fletched end against a leaf on the ground three times to signal his readiness. The noise would have been totally inaudible to any but an elf and only recognizable by those familiar with the calls of the Mirkwood Armies.

Legolas listened: three more taps, a ten-second pause; three more taps, and after another ten-second pause, all three elves sprang upon the person in the glade, who cried out in surprise and reached for a bow and quiver of arrows lying on the ground. Legolas reacted swiftly and in one easy motion, he had his arms around their stalker's arms and stomach, holding the person completely against himself.

Immediately he knew who he held. The scent of wildflowers gave her away.

_"Anariel?!"_ Legolas almost shouted.

"Unhand me!" The elleth shouted back as she thrashed about in Legolas' arms. Completely shocked, Legolas released his prisoner. Anariel whirled around in a flurry of her green traveling dress and grey cloak to give Legolas the most fearsome glare he'd ever seen on her face before. For a while, the prince looked upon Anariel, and then looked from Eregdos to Maethoron and back to Anariel. All four of them felt as though they were the most confused elves in all of Arda.

After he had recovered his wits, worry and love disguised as anger settled upon Legolas. He had specifically ordered Anariel to stay in the Elvenking's halls, even though she had volunteered to go with him.

"What are you doing here?" He demanded.

"Certainly not planning a surprise attack on _you_, if that is what you think!" Anariel almost shouted back as she pushed some stray hairs out of her face. She appeared to be just as angry with Legolas as he was with her.

The prince heaved a sigh and ran his hand over his face and let it settle over his mouth. He remained silent and looked at the ground as he tried to sort out his thoughts.

"My lady, why have you followed us?" Maethoron asked, saving Legolas the trouble. The elleth turned and looked Maethoron over once or twice before replying.

"The answer to your question, I am afraid, is a matter that must be between the prince and me," Anariel replied. She seemed to stand up straighter as she spoke, as if outward confidence would be enough to stop any other questions they might have.

Eregdos was about to protest this, but Legolas waved a hand to stop him. He looked up at Anariel steadily, trying to determine what next to say. Anariel did not speak, only stared at him in return.

Legolas knew he could not reveal that she had disobeyed direct orders from him within earshot of any other elf. The penalty for disobedience in the Woodland Realm was exile, and authority was not given to Legolas to pardon her. The knowing expression on Anariel's face suddenly caused Legolas to realize that she also knew this, and his anger festered. Even if he did reveal her, she would still have to accompany him, at least out of Mirkwood. She had taken a great risk.

"You must return to my father's halls, it is too dangerous here," Legolas finally said, knowing it would not work. Anariel almost laughed as she raised an eyebrow at his solution.

"Truly? You would send me back with no escort? I am certain you can spare none of your party to accompany me back."

Legolas set his jaw and stared at her.

"The lady is right," the prince said with a defeated sigh, "she must accompany us."

"I agree, your highness," Eregdos said. "We cannot delay long, however, darkness falls. We must return to camp."

Legolas nodded and leaned over to the ground, picking up her saddlebag, which was at his feet. He handed it to Anariel with a hard stare.

"Do not think that because I have not revealed you means I am glad to see you," He said in a low voice. His words were harsher than the prince had meant, and he regretted them almost instantly, especially when he saw fury like fire burn at him through Anariel's eyes.

"I would not jump to such conclusions, my prince," she said, grabbing her saddlebag from him. She turned on her heel at once to go to her horse and did not look at Legolas again.

When the four returned to the camp with an extra elf, Gelir was in an uproar. Saelon tried to assuage his questions, but the elder elf would have none of it.

"An elleth?" He asked, surveying Anariel, "What is _she_ doing here?"

All were silent. Anariel stared at the ground, her brow furrowed in anger, while Eregdos and Maethoron could only look at Legolas. They had served with the prince in battle before and were loyal to him; they would follow his lead, provided, of course, that he did lead. Legolas struggled with his mind for a moment before answering, not sure what to say. When he finally thought of something, his words came out all a-tumble.

"My father sent her at Lady Nestadriel's request. This elleth is a healer, and she is to accompany us to Imladris to receive instruction from Lord Elrond," he explained quickly.

Gelir looked skeptical. "Has he sent instructions to this effect?" He asked, looking at the newcomer.

"No written instructions, my lord," Anariel replied quietly, still looking at the ground.

"Then how are we to trust that this is so?" Gelir interrogated, coming closer to Anariel. Before the advisor could come farther, Legolas stepped between them.

"The Lady Anariel is most trusted of the Elvenking's son. Her words are as good as my father's," he said with authority.

Gelir seemed to engage Legolas in a staring contest that lasted for several long moments. Finally, the elder elf made a throaty noise and walked away, frustrated. Legolas rolled his eyes, growing weary of this constant battle of the wills with his father's advisor.

"Thank you, Legolas." Anariel murmured behind him. The prince turned to address her, but the elleth had already turned from him and was walking away. Legolas watched her walk her horse to where the others had made camp and begin to settle. The prince let a breath out of his nose and then turned to address Eregdos and Maethoron to establish the watch schedule for the night.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel rested comfortably on the grass. The elleth had made herself a small place to sleep right under a tall tree at the edge of the forest, near enough to the others that she was within eyeshot but far enough that she had some privacy. Her horse stood by her, snoozing. She knew not how long she had slept when a noise awakened her.

The elleth sat up facing west. Against the silhouette of the Misty Mountains she could see Legolas standing some feet away, leaning on his bow and facing away from her.

A flash of lightning shot across the sky. A handful of seconds later, a low, rolling thunder followed on a puff of breeze.

"You should rest,"

Legolas' quite voice came, taking Anariel by surprise. She looked at him standing there, unmoving as a rock before the flood. Only his strong, broad shoulders moved as he breathed steadily. The lightning flashed again, illuminating everything from his bright hair to his green and brown traveling clothes. Anariel found herself strangely unable to reply as she admired him from that distance. She blushed.

At length, Legolas turned his head to the side and looked at her. He had taken the later watch for the night and had been studying the storm as it rolled over the mountains for some time when he'd sensed Anariel's wakefulness.

Disregarding Legolas' advice, Anariel stood. Legolas watched, seemingly unmoved, as she walked towards him. He didn't think he could ever recall a time when he had seen Anariel's hair down before. It was a becoming look for her, he thought. The prince cleared his throat involuntarily.

"The storm woke me," Anariel explained as she arrived at his side. She looked into his eyes, but he turned his face westward once more.

"I do not think it will pass this way. The wind is out of the south," Legolas said of the weather. Anariel nodded.

"Have you ever seen a storm roll in as this?" Anariel asked, admiring the dramatic clouds that towered in the distance, glowing with lightning.

"Nay. The trees of Mirkwood hide such things," he answered simply and quietly. Anariel could not decide if he was talking about so benign a subject as the weather because he was angry or because he regretted his earlier words to her. Her experience with Legolas taught her that either was possible. A soft breeze fluttered past them and the elleth sighed.

"Are you angry with me?" She finally asked, looking at Legolas.

The prince sighed and lowered his head, looking at his boots. He knew the answer was never going to be "yes," much though he wanted it to be. Truthfully, any anger he'd felt was only fueled by his worry over the risks Anariel had taken and, ultimately, his love for her. He'd been thinking on it for some time as he watched the evening stars being veiled by the storm, though, and Legolas could not deny that he found her actions flattering in a strange way. Endearing, even.

He looked at Anariel and smiled wryly at her.

"Yes," he finally answered. She only stared at him in confusion. Legolas did not return her gaze, but looked back at the storm. Still smiling, he continued; "and no," he admitted, chuckling a little.

"Legolas," Anariel said his name as a warning and frowned.

"Should I not be angry? You disobeyed a direct order, knowing full well that to reveal yourself would mean exile," Legolas said, turning to face her again, his smile gone.

"And should I not be angry with you?" Anariel replied, "We have been friends all this time and yet you play with my feelings?"

"You know my desire for you to remain behind was not born of any desire to play with your feelings," Legolas said.

Anariel made a frustrated sort of growl. "Always hiding," she muttered.

"From what do you think I hide?" The prince asked, his tone somewhere between incredulous and amused at the prospect.

"Me," Anariel responded without pause. She blinked, surprised at her own answer. The elleth shifted her footing and broke eye contact for a moment. She sighed.

Legolas stared at her. Was she nervous? And just what was she trying to express, he wondered. His mind traveled over all the time they'd spent together and all they'd been through thus far. Never had he dreamed that she could possibly return the deep feelings he harbored for her, but as he watched this dearest friend stand next to him in such agitation, he began to hope. His spirit reached out to hers and she seemed to bat him away in a blur of confused thoughts.

A few moments more passed. Legolas made a decision.

"Anariel," he called her name softly as he reached out and ran his fingers over the hand at her side. The elleth inhaled sharply and looked at him again. She did not pull away, so Legolas fully captured her hand in his. Anariel smiled and looked down at their joined hands as she intertwined their fingers.

Tentatively, Legolas stepped nearer to her. "You should know," he said in a voice that was low and almost inaudible, "that although I would have had you stayed in the safety of my father's halls," he met her eyes, "nothing gives me more joy than having you near."

"I could not stay, Legolas," Anariel replied softly as she held his gaze. Her face was almost sad as she spoke, "truly, I would have faced much worse than exile to be with you."

Legolas, in an unusual streak of reckless abandon, allowed his bow to drop to the ground as he turned to fully face her. He could not stop himself, even if he had been thinking clearly. The distance between the two elves closed and he reached up with his unoccupied hand and caressed the side of Anariel's face lightly with his fingertips. Her eyes fluttered closed, and he could feel her breath on his face as their foreheads met.

Time seemed suspended as their noses brushed and they breathed together. He could sense Anariel let down her defenses and he released his spirit to go where it so longed. They stood for some time, communing in a way more intimate than ever before. Somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, Legolas remarked upon how completely natural it seemed to be with Anariel so near and how totally grounded he felt when their spirits were together – as if he was home after a long journey.

Finally, Legolas leaned down and claimed Anariel's lips with his. And he found, much to his never-ending joy, that Anariel had been waiting all that time to kiss him back.

* * *

**NOTES**

"Nâ I Onnad" is Sindarin for "it is the beginning."


	3. Imladris

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
The Sea Calls Us Home_  
Chapter Two – Imladris

Arriving in Imladris was something akin to descending into an entirely new world, Legolas thought. Concealed by Elrond's Ring of Power, the elves who had established Rivendell had no need to hide themselves underground. All of the buildings were open to the air, and the golden September leaves were floating in and out of them. Legolas was completely in awe as he and his company galloped into the main gates. The golden-haired elf gaped about him in all directions, stunned by the beauty of the Last Homely House.

"Legolas," Anariel's voice called to him as he dismounted. He turned to see her grinning at him from beside her horse.

"Your mouth is hanging open," she said.

Legolas shut his mouth and cleared his throat as he smoothed out his cloak. Saelon smirked, but said nothing while Gelir made a feeble attempt to not roll his eyes.

"Well met, Legolas Thranduilion," a deep and authoritative voice came from behind him, and Legolas turned to see a dark-haired, grey-eyed elf descending the stairs from the house. He wore brown robes and a circlet atop his head. With him came one other elf whose locks were golden, but whose eyes were grey also. In their faces was reflected the wisdom of many ages. Legolas eyed them both for a moment; he'd never met either of them before and was a little unnerved that he seemed to be recognized.

"I am Elrond Peredhel, lord of this realm. Welcome to Imladris," said the dark-haired elf.

Legolas bowed low and thanked Elrond, and then introduced all in his party, including Anariel. The bright-haired elf next to Elrond gave the Lord of Imladris a sly smirk as Legolas did this, but Elrond listened to the introductions with interest nonetheless.

"Welcome, all of you," Elrond responded at length, "and how may we assist the Prince of the Woodland Realm?"

Legolas paused, unsure as to how much the elven lord knew of Gollum and the Enemy.

"We seek Mithrandir and Aragorn of the Dúnedain to report on the task they appointed to us in the year previous; we seek also their counsel," he finally replied.

Elrond's gaze fell heavily upon Legolas and the elven lord did not speak for what seemed like a long time, even for an elf. Legolas could have sworn he saw almost a twinkle in Elrond's eye as a wry smile came across his face.

"Indeed, all of you?" Asked the elven lord, his eyes falling upon Anariel. The elleth shifted her weight from foot to foot uncomfortably under Elrond's gaze.

"Nay, not all," Legolas replied quickly, glancing from Anariel back to Elrond. "My father wished me to ask you a favor; Lady Anariel is one of our most skilled healers, and he wished of her to have more training under your eyes. Your healing skills are renowned throughout the realms of the Eldar," he said.

Elrond looked amused. "We will receive her as a student in our Houses of Healing. Glorfindel," he said, turning to the elf at his side, who nodded. "Please escort the lady and Legolas' company to our guest chambers. I wish to discuss some things with Prince Legolas."

Glorfindel nodded and motioned for the elves from Mirkwood to follow him. Anariel followed first, smiling at Legolas as she passed him. His eyes followed her as she went, an action that was not missed by Lord Elrond. For all of the Peredhel's amusement at this, he said nothing until only he and Legolas remained.

"Tell me, what news from Mirkwood?" He asked, motioning for the prince to follow him up the stairs.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Your room will be here," Glorfindel announced as he pushed open the door, allowing Anariel to pass before him. She walked in and her eyes roamed about the room and all its fine features as the Noldor elf continued to speak.

"There is a washroom attached over to your left. I imagine that Lord Elrond would like to meet with you tomorrow concerning your tutelage in our Healing Houses, so you are free to explore if you wish until dinner tonight," he explained.

"Dinner?" Anariel asked, turning to face Glorfindel.

"Indeed. All of your party will be welcomed to dine with Lord Elrond, myself, and others of this house tonight. It will be just after sunset and myself or one of the other elves will come and fetch you here to take you to the dining hall," the fair-haired elf replied with a smile.

"Thank you," Anariel said, returning his smile, "I look forward to it."

"As do I, my lady!" Glorfindel replied, bowing. "And now, I take my leave. I have more rooms yet to show, I believe. And, ah, what's his name? Gelir, is it? I believe Gelir is becoming impatient," he added with a casual glance down the hallway to where the others from Mirkwood were gathered.

"Good luck," Anariel laughed as she nodded in farewell. Glorfindel winked, flashed a smile, and was gone.

Amused, Anariel laughed to herself quietly as she walked over to her bed and very ungracefully flung herself upon it. How grateful she was to no longer be on a horse out in the wilderness!

From what she had seen, Anariel was already enchanted by Imladris. The surroundings were so pleasing to her, the open-air dwellings and beautiful colors had captivated her from the start. She sighed contentedly and sat up again, kicking her feet at the foot of the bed as she glanced around her room again. Breathing in the crisp, autumn air, she got up to her feet again and walked out onto the balcony. Noticing that there was a staircase leading down to the ground level, Anariel decided to go explore.

She wandered along the paths that had been littered with falling leaves for time unmeasured. The elleth listened quietly to the whispers of the trees and the soft laughter of the river in its bed nearby. In sharp contrast to her home in Mirkwood, all of Imladris seemed at peace with the world.

By and by, Anariel wondered about her relationship with Legolas. They had kissed only the once; however, it was fairly clear by his actions that he had some deep feeling for her he kept to himself. He seemed to find every excuse to draw near to her, to brush her hand with his, and she often found herself under his eyes. This was beguiling, but only fair, Anariel thought, since she seemed to have feelings for him she had not shared in so many words as well. Indeed, she'd probably found just as many excuses as he had to watch or touch him in the last few weeks of travel.

In addition, and most peculiarly, Anariel had noticed that she was able to sense Legolas more keenly than before. As a healer, she had been taught how to sense other elves' hurts and how to cover them with her own feä. Elves, of course, could sense each others' feär, but never before had Anariel been able to sense another elf that was not near her without actively searching for him. She had noticed that she could feel Legolas dimly in the reaches of her mind as if he was standing nearby.

A bird suddenly cried out, calling Anariel out of her musings. She looked around and realized she had no bearings and was unsure as to where she was. When she was in an area darkened grove of trees, she stopped and turned around once or twice, trying to remember which way was what. Anariel began to worry when she noticed that the sun was going down in the West and she would soon need to be back to attend dinner.

Suddenly, Anariel felt someone approaching from behind her, and she turned quickly only to be startled by the presence of another elleth standing close by.

"Goodness, the Sindar must scare easily," the elleth said, smiling. She had long, dark hair and piercing grey eyes. The beads on her lavender dress seemed to twinkle like starlight. Anariel thought the air about this maiden reminded her of Elrond.

"I apologize if I have stumbled upon some place I should not have," Anariel said. "I am, as you noticed, one of the Sindar from Mirkwood, and rather embarrassed to admit that I have gotten myself lost. My name is Anariel," she said, curtsying.

"I am Arwen, daughter of Elrond, and you have not stumbled upon anything off-limits. Truly, there are few, if any, restricted places in Imladris. But you say you are lost?" Arwen replied.

"And most humiliated to be so," Anariel chuckled. "I thought I would take a short walk through the trails near where I have been given a place to stay, but I was so enraptured by the beauty of your home that by the time I came to my senses, I was quite somewhere else."

Arwen smiled. "Imladris has been known to have that effect," she said with a bit of a laugh, "I can help you find your way back, if you wish."

"That would be most helpful," Anariel said, trying not to show her embarrassment.

Arwen motioned for Anariel to follow her as she started off to their left. They walked side by side for a time, sharing stories of their different cultures and lives. Anariel found it fascinating that by the mere fact that their ancestors had chosen different paths in Aman, the Sindar and Noldor had been separated into completely different races with wholly different cultures, languages, and customs. Despite what she had learned in her elfling years, Anariel would have never known the full scope of history if she had not discussed it with Arwen. When Anariel began to recognize some of the buildings they were walking passed, their subject topic changed.

"What brings you to Imladris, if you do not mind me asking?" Arwen asked.

Anariel regarded Arwen before she spoke. The Evenstar's grey eyes seemed to be watching her carefully, as if she knew the truth but did not expect Anariel to speak it.

"I come here under unusual circumstances," Anariel admitted with a sigh, "Prince Legolas and I have been friends for many years. Before he left the Woodland Realm to come to your father's house, we had a rather large argument. He told me of his need to ride for Imladris, and I wanted to follow. He barred me from accompanying him, but nonetheless I tracked him and the others out of Mirkwood until I was discovered. It is, admittedly, a bit more complicated than that…"

At this, Arwen smiled and said, "Aren't all such matters of the heart?" Anariel only looked at the Evenstar, not entirely sure how to reply. Arwen continued with a sigh;

"You have done what I could not. A dear friend of mine left long ago despite my requests to stay. I did not have the courage to follow him and bring him home," the Evenstar said quietly. There was a far-away look in the lady Arwen's face as she spoke, and Anariel could sense the sadness that hung around in the air.

"Sometimes it takes more courage to be patient and await a friend's return than it does to follow in his footsteps," Anariel said.

"Perhaps," Arwen replied reticently. Anariel was about to ask her who had left, but the elleth spoke before she had a chance, "Does this look familiar?" She asked.

Anariel looked up to see the chambers she had been allowed earlier in the day. She sighed and smiled. "Indeed, this is the place Lord Glorfindel left me."

"I shall see you at dinner, then?" Arwen asked.

"Indeed. I look forward to it!" Anariel replied, moving toward the stairs to her balcony. She waved to Arwen who nodded in response before turning to leave, presumably to get herself ready for the dinner that was soon to be underway.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Legolas was rather unsure of what had just happened.

He had spent an hour in Elrond's study speaking with the elven lord about things that seemed to have little significance, considering the circumstances under which Legolas had ridden to Imladris.

Lord Elrond, upon finding himself alone with Legolas, informed the prince that he indeed knew of Gollum and that the creature had been delivered into the care of the elves in Mirkwood. When Legolas told Lord Elrond that Gollum had escaped, the Peredhel did not seem surprised. He assured Legolas that both Mithrandir and Aragorn were expected in Imladris soon, but the news could be saved until the opportune moment.

Instead, Elrond seemed more concerned with the borders of Mirkwood and Dol Guldur than anything else. His interest was understandable for many reasons, the foremost being that the Enemy had long made his home in Dol Guldur. However, Legolas thought that Elrond would have been alarmed at the news of Gollum – maybe even slightly worried – but his host had hardly given the news two minutes time.

After his meeting with Elrond, Legolas was subjected to five-hundred-and-one questions as conducted by Gelir. Saelon too seemed interested in what the two monarchs had discussed, but when Legolas said that not much came of the meeting, Saelon tried to drop the subject. Predictably, Gelir did not let up for quite some time.

At present, Legolas was seated next to Glorfindel at dinner, discussing all of the visitors past, present, and future, to the Last Homely House. How they had arrived at the topic, Legolas was unsure. Indeed, he had been staring for quite some time at Anariel, seated at the other end of the table between Saelon and Arwen. He hadn't seen her since they parted ways after arriving in Imladris. The prince found himself quite distracted by the way she smiled and laughed at something Saelon had said.

Somehow, Glorfindel's voice made its way through the mire of Legolas' mind and the prince became aware that the Noldor elf was talking of dwarves.

"…We see them here seldom," Glorfindel said, "But they do come from time to time…We may see some of those folk soon," he added as casually as one might announce a change in the weather.

Legolas, now fully engaged in the conversation, raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Have some messengers sent word ahead?" He asked.

"Hmm?" Glorfindel turned back to the prince, "Have we received word? No. We have not," he replied.

"But you believe there are Dwarves on their way here," Legolas, questioning more than he was stating a fact.

"And perhaps more, but who can say? The time draws near," Glorfindel replied quietly, a far-off look in his eyes.

"The time draws near? For what?" Legolas asked.

"We shall see," Glorfindel responded, his eyes grey eyes flashing with some excitement.

"And now my guests," Elrond suddenly addressed them from the head of the table. "Shall we adjourn to the Hall of Fire for some song and dance?"

All the guests rose from their seats and Elrond led them into a room beyond.

Despite his best efforts, when the host entered the Hall of Fire could Legolas not find himself near Anariel. As a visiting dignitary, he was obliged to dance with most everyone who asked him. Though, as Legolas noticed, Anariel did not seem to be slighted by this, as she was out on the dance floor every so often with Glorfindel or another elf of Imladris. This bothered the prince; though he could not say why.

Finally, the last dance was had and an elf named Lindir was called upon to sing. The several elves took seats that were set out on each side of the hall, and finally Legolas had his chance. He took a seat next to Anariel. He flashed a tactful smile at her as he slid into his chair.

"Good evening," Anariel greeted, smiling at him.

"And to you, my lady," Legolas replied. They looked upon each other for only a moment more and said nothing else out of discretion.

Lindir began his first song. It was slow and reflective, and the text described the Awakening of the Elves. Once while Lindir was singing, Legolas looked over at Anariel and was contented to see that she was rather enthralled. She seemed as a young child being told an epic tale for the first time.

The songs continued for what would have been a long time to any other than an elf. After a few pieces, Legolas was called upon to sing something from Greenwood the Great, and after the prince had his turn and was again sitting next to Anariel, she subtly took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently before releasing him again. The prince looked over at her, smiled, and returned his attention to Lindir, who once again had the floor.

Anariel's gesture was missed by all save one – the lady Arwen – who sighed and folded her hands in her lap.

It was not until near midnight that the elves disbanded for the night and went to their chambers for a good night's rest. After bidding a good night to Elrond, Legolas took Anariel's arm and walked with her towards the hall where they were being housed.

"What do you think of Imladris?" He asked her quietly as they walked in the moonlight.

"I am… speechless!" She said, laughing a little. "I love it here."

"It is very beautiful," Legolas agreed, smiling. "I have never felt so connected with the trees around me than I have now. It is so enchanting to live among them, instead of under them," he commented. "Did you enjoy the dinner?" He inquired.

"Very much," Anariel replied. "It has been so interesting conversing with the Noldor elves; we are so very different from them. It's difficult to believe we are all the same race of peoples."

"I am sorry that I spent so little time with you tonight, I would have rather been your dance partner," he remarked. Anariel smirked.

"I would not have danced with you even if you had asked me," she said, patting his hand.

"Why ever not?" Legolas asked, perplexed.

"Because if you danced only with me, you would certainly have asserted to the entire Eldarin world that you are the worst politician ever to live," she admonished him with a laugh, "it is much more important for you to establish relationships with the elves who live here rather than to dance with someone you have known for years."

"You speak truthfully," Legolas chuckled. "So tell me, my lady expert politician, may I ever dance with you again?" He teased.

The pair had arrived at Anariel's door and they paused there. She looked up at Legolas with a smile and raised eyebrow, as if she was challenging him to something. Legolas hovered over her closely with a hungry look in his eyes.

"Hm… I do say, it will be difficult to find a proper time, though, there is one possibility," Anariel teased, leaning up on her toes so that their faces were mere inches from each other. The heat between the two of them was difficult to miss. Legolas' eyes slipped closed.

"And that is…?" he breathed.

"You will have to follow me to discover it," Anariel replied, firmly taking the prince's hand in hers and opening the door to her chamber. Legolas' eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door handle turning. His eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth in confusion, but the question on his lips evaporated when Anariel's head turned and she smiled at him steadily. Her expression appealed to him to trust her, so he let her lead him through her bedroom to the balcony on the opposite wall.

Once they were under the moonlight again, Anariel let Legolas' hand go and she turned to fully face him. In silence, she gave a customary pre-dance curtsy and waited. Legolas stared at her in wonder and in his turn gave a bow of his own, mostly out of instinct than out of conscious thought. He took the hand she offered and the couple began to dance.

Legolas felt as though he was floating through a dream as they shifted and swayed. The moonlight guided their steps as the tree's song dictated their pace. The pair danced in silence as they weaved to and fro. Gradually, though, they drew closer and closer together until they had abandoned mostly all pretense of a court dance as Legolas kept Anariel in his arms. They swayed back and forth gently. Their cheeks were touching when Anariel found her voice.

"Has this been agreeable to my lord?" She said in a low, hushed voice.

Dipping his head into the crook of her neck, Legolas answered her: "I think I prefer this arrangement to any in the world."


	4. Achas a Meleth

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
The Sea Calls Us Home_  
Chapter Three – Achas a Meleth

It was October, and the Mirkwood elves had been in Imladris almost a month. Anariel had taken on full-time tutelage in Lord Elrond's healing houses and quickly learned that while the volume of elves needing a healer's hands was certainly less than it was in the Woodland Realm, their hurts were far more complicated. When she was not in the Healing Houses receiving instruction from Lord Elrond or others, she was reading and taking extensive notes.

Legolas, for his part, was also taking advantage of the far-reaching knowledge of the elves in Imladris. Glorfindel had become a good friend to him, and often they had spent long hours of the day together, sharing various experiences and stories. This had all come to a halt when news reached Rivendell that things were amiss in Middle Earth. Legolas had been with Glorfindel and Elrond in the Lord of Imladris' study when news was received that The Nine – The Nazgûl – were abroad. This deeply troubled Elrond, as no one could account for the whereabouts of Aragorn and Mithrandir. Either or both were said to be aiding the bearer of some great burden to Imladris, so Elrond laid plans to send Glorfindel and others to look for them almost at once. Legolas could only suspect what this burden was, but he did not speak of it openly to anyone. Not even Lord Elrond.

The news of the departure of the Nazgûl lord who had been plaguing Mirkwood from Dol Guldur was a surprise, though. Legolas, Saelon, and Gelir spent time in counsel together discussing the significance of the Nazgûl's absence from Dol Guldur and whether or not it would be prudent to send some of their party back to alert the Elvenking. After seeking counsel with Lord Elrond on the matter, it was decided that waiting would be wise.

"There may yet be need to send riders abroad, and very few can travel openly against the Nine," Elrond had said grimly.

A day or so after Glorfindel's departure, Legolas found himself in the company of the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. The Halfling was apparently writing a book about his adventures through Mirkwood and beyond and wanted to sit down with the prince to "pick his brain." Legolas, having been fond of Bilbo since meeting him after the Battle of Five Armies, was happy to oblige. Their afternoon meetings continued over the next several days.

Sometimes, when she was done with her tutelage and note-taking, Anariel would seek the two out and join them to listen to Bilbo's stories. Such was the case on the afternoon of October 18th.

Anariel found Legolas and Bilbo each sitting on his own stone bench built into the wall that overlooked the Brunien flowing several yards below. The hobbit had his red book and was eagerly writing down the lyrics to the song Legolas was reciting for him. The prince sat facing Bilbo with one leg propped up on the bench. His intertwined fingers rested on the front of his knee as he gazed upwards, as if searching in the sky for the words that came next. Anariel smiled as she approached them from behind Legolas. She recognized the song he sang as the Lay of Amdír, the Sindarin Lord from Doriath who established the realm of Lórinand, now called Lothloríen.

So as not to disturb Bilbo, Anariel walked quietly over to the bench where Legolas was reclining and sat down close behind him.

Legolas sensed her presence before she approached and sat, but did not turn to face her or break his song. When he could feel her warmth behind him, he leaned back on her a little for support. Anariel drew closer to him as he sang and rested her arm on the wall behind her, letting Legolas rest against the crook of her arm with his shoulder. Her hand draped over the wall close to his knee, and Legolas reached over to brush the top of her hand with the back of his index finger.

Bilbo did not look up over his book, but arched an eyebrow and smiled, apparently having seen this interaction in his peripheral vision (limited though it had become). He did not look up until Legolas had finished the last stanza.

"Beautiful," Anariel said in a voice that only Legolas could hear. He turned his head and offered her a smile of thanks.

"Well, I do say, Prince Legolas, that was quite fascinating," Bilbo piped up as he finished the last word in his spidery script and looked up over his book, "even if you were distracted at the end." A sly smile was on his face and a twinkle was in his eye.

"Distracted?" Legolas laughed, "I promise you, my friend, I gave the Lay my full attention."

"Indeed," Bilbo replied in a low voice dripping in sarcasm. He leaned forward to give the book to Legolas for the prince to proofread, and his smile turned over into a frown of pain as his joints creaked in protest.

"Master Bilbo," Anariel said, inching forward in her seat as if to get up, "let me help you with that."

Legolas took the book and Bilbo waved his hand in the air as if to push away her worry. "Oh, now, I am not so old yet!" He exclaimed somewhere between a chuckle and a groan, sitting back down. Anariel hesitated and watched the hobbit carefully as he settled again.

"Besides," he said with a wink, "you look quite comfortable there."

Anariel found herself looking down at her boots and did not reply. She could not understand for the life of her why her face suddenly felt so hot.

Legolas seemed oblivious to this as he read over Bilbo's fine and wispy handwriting. He added an accent here and there, but the hobbit had gotten all of the Sindarin words down exactly as they should have been otherwise.

"Well done, Master Hobbit," Legolas said at length, "would you like me to give you the translation next?"

"Oh, well, thank you, but I think I shall give it a whirl myself first," Bilbo said, accepting the book back into his hands as Legolas gave it over to him. "I would like to ask you a question though."

"Anything, Master Bilbo," Legolas replied. Anariel noted the twinkle that had returned to the hobbit's eye as he smiled and asked:

"Is it not the tradition of elves to wear rings when betrothed?"

The Prince of the Woodland Realm stared at Bilbo, his brow knit in confusion and an incredulous smile upon his face at this odd inquiry.

"Under most circumstances, yes," Legolas replied, his words came out long and measured with caution.

"Well, I note that there is not a ring upon yours or your lady's hand," Bilbo replied motioning to where Legolas' hands were still intertwined upon his knee with Anariel's hand draped over the wall nearby. Almost instantly, Anariel sat up straight and withdrew her arm, putting both of her hands in her lap.

"Pardon?" Legolas almost sputtered in shock, reorganizing his position as well. He let his knee down and unconsciously moved an inch or two away from Anariel.

"Legolas," the elleth said. Legolas looked at her and saw a red blush upon her face, which was construed in an expression somewhere between amusement and embarrassment. The prince whirled back around to face Bilbo as realization smacked him in the face.

"You think _we_ are betrothed?" The prince exclaimed.

"Well you _should_ be if you aren't!" Bilbo laughed.

Legolas turned again to Anariel, looking at her in wide-eyed alarm as if she could supply him with an answer. The elleth could only stare at him in surprised amusement as she held her hand over her mouth, holding back her own set of laughter.

The prince opened his mouth as if to finally offer a reply, but his ears caught rumor of a commotion coming from the road leading to Imladris.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir is come!" A voice cried out.

Anariel heard the voice as well and stood to get a better view of the bridge leading towards the Last Homely House. Legolas joined her on his feet and peered in the distance. Both elves were aware that Bilbo was admonishing them – probably for finding an excuse not to answer him – but they were focused on the road in the distance. After some time, surely enough, they spied a man walking with a quick stride onto the bridge.

"I seek Lord Elrond!" A voice belonging to Mithrandir called out.

"Hullo there!" Bilbo exclaimed, suddenly understanding the goings on as he spotted Gandalf.

Legolas turned to Anariel. He took one of her hands in his as he spoke in a low voice to her; "I should go to him and tell him our news, if I can," he said in apology.

Anariel smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Go," she replied with a nod.

In spite of what he was sure Bilbo would say, Legolas could not resist placing a kiss on Anariel's hand before taking his leave. He turned, and was gone.

"Oh, sticklebats!" The hobbit exclaimed as he watched the prince go, "I should like to see Gandalf, too. But I suppose Prince Legolas has much more important things to discuss with him than I do, even if I am a very old friend," he added, shrugging.

Anariel chuckled and offered the hobbit her hand as he moved to stand. "Come, Master Bilbo. I shall take you to your chambers and send word to Mithrandir to find you there when he is free. Does that suit you?"

"I suppose," Bilbo muttered while his joints once again issued their protests to his movements, even as he leaned on Anariel for support. Once the hobbit was on his feet and steady, she walked slowly next to him up the lane. "And you be sure to tell the prince for me that he ought not make you wait so long," he added, waggling his finger at her as if he was scolding a child.

The elleth thought of all of the ways in which she could explain to Bilbo that betrothal and marriage were beyond them… but was unable to produce even one reason as to why they shouldn't. Flummoxed, Anariel frowned.

"I will, Bilbo," was all she could say.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As it turned out, Mithrandir was not the only visitor to arrive that day. A party of dwarves, some of whom had been prisoners of the Elvenking prior to the Battle of Five Armies, arrived on Lord Elrond's doorstep later that afternoon. The Lord of Imladris saw them after he held counsel with Mithrandir for some time. Legolas, desiring not to interact with the newcomers, was forced to hover at a distance while the dwarves sat outside Elrond's study waiting for their turn.

The sun was setting when Mithrandir finally left Elrond's study. He greeted the dwarves warmly, but when they had disappeared behind the door to meet with Elrond, Legolas observed how quickly a shadow seemed to overtake the Istar. He walked over to a bench on the wall opposite Elrond's study and sat down with great force and what sounded like a groan. His staff rested in the crook of his elbow as he folded his arms over his chest, looking down and knitting his brows as if in deep and dark thought.

Legolas took a step out from behind the pillar where he had been tarrying, avoiding the dwarves. Mithrandir, if he noticed the elf at all, did not acknowledge him, so Legolas approached.

"Mithrandir," he called, walking towards the wizard. It took him a moment, but Gandalf arched an eyebrow and turned his head to peer up at the prince.

"Ah, Prince Legolas. Lord Elrond told me you were here with news," he said finally.

"Yes, I've – "

"I have news of my own, but I believe we shall have the opportunity to divulge it to one another in time," Mithrandir interrupted. A grin appeared on his face, as if to assure Legolas that he meant no offense. The smile disappeared as quickly as it came, overtaken by the shadow of the wizard's worry.

"Something troubles you," Legolas observed.

"Indeed," Mithrandir replied, "dark are the days ahead for the free folk of Middle Earth."

The prince stood there in quiet contemplation. Anything that troubled Mithrandir should have been enough to give even the oldest, wisest, and sturdiest elf pause. Even without the Istar's foreboding speech, Legolas could easily see the winds in Middle Earth turning against all those who wished to be free of Sauron and his minions. Legolas thought of his family back in the Woodland Realm; of his niece and nephew, his brothers and father, and of Anariel. He found himself compelled to speak.

"If there is something I can do, Mithrandir…" he began, not knowing exactly what he could offer. The Istar peered up at him again and fixed his eyes on the prince's. There was a sudden flash of keenness in his gaze and then he smiled again.

"There may yet be a time when your skills will be needed, Legolas Thranduilion. We will call upon you when the time comes," The wizard assured him. Legolas, flattered, smiled back and was about to reply when Mithrandir rose from his seated position and clapped a hand on the prince's shoulder as he spoke again, "and now, I believe there is an old friend of ours here who I am anxious to see. I hope Master Bilbo has not been teasing you too much about the time he spent in your father's halls."

"Indeed, he has," Legolas laughed, "he is ever the trouble-maker."

"Good, good," the wizard chortled as he stepped away, "I shall see you soon, Prince Legolas."

As he watched Mithrandir walk away, Legolas' thoughts turned to the question the hobbit had asked him earlier in the day. With a sigh, he plopped down on the bench and held his head in his hands for a moment. A low humming noise of dwarves speaking with Lord Elrond wafted through the air and reached his elven ears as Legolas thought about his predicament.

Legolas had still not told Anariel the true depth of his feelings for her. In practical terms, they had only been courting – and unofficially at that – for two months and since arriving in Imladris they had scant time together. They had come to an unspoken agreement to keep their attachment between themselves and would meet in the evening shadows after meals or time in the Hall of Fire. Legolas did not think they had been careless with this unsaid rule, even if he did find it difficult at times to keep his eyes off of Anariel. But, apparently, there were some things too obvious; at least to Bilbo Baggins. And if these things were obvious to a hobbit, were they not also obvious to Anariel?

The prince shifted as he sat and rested his elbows upon his knees and held his chin in his hands as he wondered. Did Anariel know? Did she feel the same bond to Legolas as he felt for her? He had never asked; afraid to let her know of his true feelings. He was dead certain that he would never love another the way he loved Anariel. She was his best friend and if he could just be near her for all of his days that would satisfy him. But Legolas feared the future and what it should bring.

An image of his mother flashed in front of his memory, and he somehow knew instantly what he must do. With a deep breath, Legolas stood and went to go find his beloved.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel, at that moment, was sitting on the balcony outside her chamber, repairing the hem of the dress she wore in the Healing Houses. Dusk was fading into night. Taking a break from her needle-work, the elleth gazed towards the West to see the sun disappearing under the tree line in the distance. She wondered how long Legolas would be occupied with Mithrandir, and if he would seek her out after his meeting. She sighed and returned to her stitching as she thought.

It had been rather obvious to her that Legolas was shaken by Bilbo's suggestion that the two ought to have been betrothed. Anariel, for her part, had found the initial suggestion rather hilarious, but as she thought on it, she was startled to discover that her feelings about Legolas had taken a turn.

Legolas has been her closest companion for many years. Her mind traveled the paths of her memories of him; the day they first met, the many hours the shared in Mirkwood's library telling stories, the first time they danced… She had suspected that after the Battle of Five Armies that something had changed. It was the way he gazed at her in those moments as he had held her after the battle. She had seen it in his eyes. And in that moment, she had felt a change in her feelings toward him as well, but she had not known at the time what it meant. So much had happened in the interim that she hadn't had time to process it.

The thought of the length of time that had passed since she had stolen away in the night to follow Legolas' party caused Anariel to pause and ponder. Oh how the elves in Mirkwood would be gossiping by now – her healer friends had always teased her about Legolas and now that they were gone together there would be no reprieve. This mattered to her little, though. The only elf's approval she sought was her father's. Sometime after arriving in Imladris, a caravan of men bound for Lake Town happened upon Lord Elrond's home, and Anariel asked them to carry a letter to the Elvenking's halls assuring her father of her safety. She desired her father's approval of Legolas for reasons she was only beginning to understand.

Anariel was so engrossed in her thoughts and her stitching that she did not hear Legolas wander up the stairs to where she was seated. He stopped short of going to her and watched as the last of the sun's rays danced upon her features. Her rose colored dress fluttered at her feet in the slight breeze as did her partially pulled-back hair. His heart sighed at the sight of her.

Feeling Legolas' presence, Anariel finished a stitch and then looked up, and a warm smile crossed her lips.

"There you are," she said. The elleth deposited her work upon the bench where she was situated and then rose to greet Legolas, who met her and gathered her into his arms. He embraced her tightly.

"Hello," Legolas spoke softly into her ear.

"Hello indeed," Anariel replied as she returned his embrace. She was a little disappointed he didn't kiss her. In the far reaches of her mind, worry that Bilbo's suggestion had chilled their relationship nagged at her. "Come, sit with me," she said, taking his hand and leading him back to where she had been seated previously.

He sat down on the bench beside her with more distance between them than he would have normally liked, but his heart was beating so furiously he was afraid Anariel would be able to feel it. Legolas was determined. He met her eyes.

"There is something I must say," he began, "something, I have kept from you too long."

Anariel took a breath and bit her lip. The look in Legolas' eyes was unlike any other she'd ever seen. It was as if the prince dreaded what he must say. Immediately, she feared that Bilbo's words had caused him to have second thoughts. She wanted to interrupt him and assure him that she was in no hurry, but Legolas pressed on.

"I must first apologize, for I have broken my promise to be open with you," he said, looking away from her momentarily. His mind had wandered across the memories of Anariel from the night Gollum fled. That night seemed like an age away now. "I have not fully shared the depths of my feelings for you. But not without reason," he said as he returned to meet her gaze. The confusion on Anariel's face was abundant. Her blue eyes were swirling with questions and her brow was knit in deep thought. She had – whether consciously or no – taken a clump of her dress that lay across her lap up in her hands as was clenching it tightly. She was nervous.

Gently, Legolas reached out and took one of her hands. He felt her freeze under his touch. He inched closer to her and stroked her hand with his thumb, hoping to alleviate some of her concern as he continued.

"Aside from my family, I have been alone for all of my life, Anariel," he said, still steadily holding her gaze. She continued to stare at him with an expression which plainly showed her confusion. "Much of my life has been spent observing loneliness and worry. I have seen my father cope with eternal separation from his wife, and I have seen my niece, nephew, and sister-in-law suffer in my brother's absence. And my mother," he paused to swallow, surprised by the sudden wave of sadness that washed over him as he spoke of Almwen, "though I did not know her, I feel her absence acutely. The pain I see – that I feel – is more than I could bear to pass on to another."

"Legolas," Anariel said in a hushed voice. A shiver ran up the prince's back when she spoke his name. He reached out and caressed her face with his unoccupied hand.

"Especially one whom I love," he said.

Anariel's mouth dropped open and she gasped in surprise. She had expected something quite different from this conversation.

"You have had my heart since the day you were injured in the Battle of Five Armies. Truly, I suspect it has been much longer, but I did not realize it until then. I have not said so because I cannot guarantee what the future holds for either of us, but if you will allow me, I will fight for it. For us," Legolas finally confessed. His words were quiet and expectant; more like a request than a declaration and hoping for a positive response.

Tears that Anariel could not explain formed in her eyes. A warm, happy sensation spread throughout her body as she could feel her spirit calling out to Legolas', and suddenly every thought in her mind fell into place. She loved him back. She knew without reservation they belonged to one another.

Slowly, a smile broke across Anariel's lips. She inched closer to Legolas and rested her unoccupied hand on top of Legolas' in her lap.

"I love you, Legolas," she finally replied in a quiet, but determined, voice, "and I will love you always." The tears in her eyes finally spilled over her cheeks and for some reason she found herself laughing.

Legolas released her hands and reached up to hold her face. Gently, he leaned over and kissed her. Everything around them was lost as they kissed and embraced under the light of the night's first stars. He felt a tug on his feä as they kissed, and recognized with some surprise that Anariel's spirit was calling out to his. With nearly no effort, he let her in and their feär swirled together. The resulting sensation was wonderful and overwhelming; they could both feel the love they had for each other as though it was as tangible as the bench where they sat or the feel of each others' skin. It was the most intimate connection either had known.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. "Achas a meleth" is Sindarin for "fear and love."

2. The Lay of Amdír: You can find out more about Amdír, also referred to as Malgalad, in _The History of Galadriel and Celeborn_, The Unfinished Tales.


	5. Gwaedh

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
The Sea Calls Us Home_  
Chapter Four – Gwaedh

Four days later, a red sun rose on a totally still morning in Imladris. The birds and insects hardly made any noise in that early hour. Purple clouds hung low in the orange and pink sky as Anariel made her way from breakfast towards the Houses of Healing, where she had been summoned early that morning. She was passing outside the library of Imladris when she was approached by an elf she did not recognize. In his hands, he held a small stack of envelopes which were all sealed.

"Lady Anariel?" He asked.

"I am she," Anariel replied with a smile.

"A caravan of men from Laketown headed west met with some of our patrols in the night. They were carrying letters from Mirkwood to Imladris. One is for you," he explained, holding out one of the envelopes.

"Thank you," Anariel said, accepting the envelope. The elf gave her a slight bow and turned to leave.

The elleth smiled when she saw her father's handwriting and seal, but her curiosity was piqued when she noticed the weight of the letter and felt something small shift inside. She was about to open the letter, but a bird calling out in the distance reminded her that she was needed. She put the envelope in the pocket of her dress and went ahead to the Houses of Healing.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Legolas once again found himself in the companionship of Bilbo Baggins. He had spent the morning in meetings with Saelon and Gelir regarding correspondence received from the Elvenking delivered a caravan of men passing Rivendell, and when he emerged at midday he discovered that the household of Lord Elrond seemed to be preparing for something. All of the elves of Imladris were occupied, and Anariel had left word for Legolas that she would be in the healing rooms until nightfall. While searching for Mithrandir, he came upon Master Bilbo who then asked him to stay for the mid-day meal so they may share conversation. Legolas quickly discovered that Bilbo mostly wanted to check translations of songs he shared with the hobbit, but the prince was happy to be occupied with this task.

"You are very skilled at our language, friend," Legolas said as he handed a page of translations back to the hobbit.

"I thank you, Prince Legolas, and I am quite pleased this passes inspection!" Bilbo replied, smiling as he accepted the parchment and placed it with the small stack of pages sitting next to him. "And at least I know I have not led my nephew astray when teaching him some of the basics," he added.

"You have a nephew?"

"Aye, a delightful lad; Frodo is his name. He is like a son to me," Bilbo replied. The elderly hobbit's eyes seemed to lose their focus as his mind wandered over the paths of his memories and murmured, "Still so much in love with the Shire…"

Legolas smiled at this newfound common ground with the hobbit. "I have a nephew also, Erynion. His father is my oldest brother."

"I do not recall any elflings from my _visit_," Bilbo paused and winked for dramatic effect, ever teasing Legolas, "to your father's halls."

"You would not," Legolas replied with a laugh, "for my brother was not even betrothed at the time."

"Ah, yes! Speaking of…" Bilbo cut across whatever thoughts Legolas had to continue that line of conversation. Immediately the prince new where the discussion was about to turn, but he knew he could not dissuade Bilbo and therefore did not try. "Have you found a ring?" The Hobbit asked.

Legolas stared at Bilbo, ever impressed at his forwardness. The periannath did not seem to mince words. Master Baggins, for his part, continued to stare at the prince with eyebrows raised expectantly.

With a sigh, Legolas replied, "No. Even if I had, her family is not here to agree to a trothplight. Nor is mine."

"I am under the impression, Prince Legolas, that permission from kinfolk is not necessary for an elvish marriage." Bilbo replied. The Sindar prince frowned and briefly wondered what, exactly, Bilbo had been reading while in Imladris that had made the hobbit so knowledgeable in the laws and customs of the Eldar.

"You are correct…"

"So what keeps you?" Bilbo cut across him again.

Legolas was silent as he considered this question. There were several answers; first among them being that as royalty, the ceremony of binding houses together was important. Certainly his father and mother had forgone this and there was arguably a precedent for Legolas to disregard convention, but his parents' circumstance had been extreme. He and Anariel had discussed the possibility of betrothal and both desired their families' approval.

Finally, the prince sighed and smiled at the hobbit, knowing he would not win the argument. "Where, Master Baggins, might one find a ringmaker in Imladris?"

A wide and mischievous smile crawled across Bilbo's face. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together with excitement. "I am glad you asked, lad. I will take you to him!"

Legolas helped the elderly hobbit rise and smirked to himself, thinking that taking him to the ringmaker had been Bilbo's plan all along.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Night fell in Imladris, and everything in the valley was tense and quiet. Something had come, everyone could sense it. Legolas felt most uncomfortable walking about the Last Homely House in his green court robes; the atmosphere made him feel as though he out to be wearing a thick leather jerkin and have his bow and arrows ready. To make matters more suspect, Anariel had not appeared out of the Healing Houses at the appointed hour.

He was testing his new connection with her, following the trail of her presence in his mind like a beacon. Legolas could sense she was near as he ascended the stairs to the Healing Houses' level, and he could feel dimly her level of consternation.

In his hand, he turned over the gold and silver ring he had purchased from Aranethon, the ring-smith of Imladris. Legolas wondered if he was tempting fate, purchasing both the betrothal and wedding ring in one fell swoop, however, he did not have long to linger on the thought as he approached the main door to Elrond's healing rooms and spotted Erestor making an exit.

"Good evening, Lord Erestor," Legolas greeted, slipping the rings into a pocket on his belt. The Noldor elf looked up in surprise as he closed the door.

"I apologize, Prince Legolas, if you mean to go into the Healing Houses. I fear none may enter," Elrond's aide said, cutting to the chase. "A short time ago, a badly-injured Halfling was brought to us. Lord Elrond is with him, as is Mithrandir. They cannot be disturbed."

"I have actually come to inquire after the Lady Anariel, is she also occupied with this task?" Legolas asked.

"She has been in and out of the room for supplies. You may wait here for her, if you desire. I fear I must be off to tend to some matters of the House for Lord Elrond," Erestor said, smiling apologetically as he gave the prince a slight bow and walked towards the stairs. Legolas thanked him and wandered over to a bench by the window and sat down.

He passed the time by observing the stars in their nightly journey across the skies. Unconsciously, he found himself reaching for his mother's necklace he always wore beneath his tunic. The prince began to wonder how the court of the Woodland Realm had reacted when they discovered, without pretense or announcement, that Almwen was de facto princess of Greenwood on the same morning the entire royal family rode out to war. In Legolas' experience, the elves of Mirkwood enjoyed their pomp and tradition and imagined that the ceremony of binding houses was something that most of the court would have preferred to have in the proper order, rather than several years after the actual marriage. Though, if any had ever had reservations about Thranduil's marriage to Almwen, it was never spoken aloud to Legolas. Folk in Mirkwood only ever talked of his parents' relationship with loving adoration to him.

Even though the prince thought himself thinking too far ahead in the future, he could not help but wonder if his family – his mother especially – would approve of Anariel as his bride. He knew so little of Almwen, Legolas would probably never know, but he thought it would be difficult for anyone to not enjoy Anariel. She was not demure or eager to please like other elleth he knew; she had no fear of sharing her opinions or seizing that which she desired. To Legolas, Anariel was always the brightest spot in the room.

He smiled at the thought and was placing his necklace behind his tunic again when he heard voices from down the corridor.

"Sam, you must be patient, Lord Elrond will probably not let you see him…"

"I need to see that Mr. Frodo is all right! Not even an ogre is going to stop me from doing my duty, Mr. Strider, sir!"

Suddenly in the doorway appeared a Halfling accompanied by none but Aragorn of the Dúnedain, looking just as disheveled and road-worn as he had the night he appeared in Mirkwood. Both he and the Halfling were still in their traveling clothes and looked as though they'd both just stepped out of the river.

"Lord Aragorn!" Legolas said with surprise, standing up.

"Prince Legolas?" Aragorn's voice and face betrayed his surprise as he laid eyes on the Mirkwood elf.

"Where is Mr. Frodo?!" The Halfling demanded as he marched himself up to Legolas and puffed out his chest in an attempt to intimidate the elf. The Mirkwood Prince looked down on the sandy-haired hobbit, filthy from the road and fatigue plain on his face. Legolas attempted to hide his amusement at the poor hobbit's brave display by looking for an explanation from Aragorn.

"Frodo is the hobbit brought here not long ago. He is wounded. Do you have news of his condition?" Aragorn obliged. The sigh in the Dúnedan's voice was heavy with exhaustion.

"I am sorry to report that I know nothing, I came here to find a friend who is apparently with your Frodo as we speak. No one has come out for some time," Legolas replied.

"Where is he!?" Sam demanded once more, rather loudly.

Aragorn was about to rebuke the hobbit for his rudeness when the Healing House's main door opened and Anariel stepped out. She locked eyes with Legolas for but a moment, just long enough for him to see that she was deeply troubled. Anariel then turned her eyes to Aragorn and Sam, and spoke to them.

"The Halfling's injuries are severe, and the Lord Elrond needs peace if he is to do his work," she admonished, fatigue in her voice. Sam took a step back from Legolas and faced the elleth fully; a faint blush growing on his cheeks as he suddenly lost his nerve.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but Gandalf made me promise to look after Mr. Frodo, and I must do my duty, you see. Can't I go in? I'll keep myself scarce and out of everyone's way, but I just want to see how he fares, is all," the young hobbit explained.

A tired smile softened Anariel's gaze. "Familiar voices seem to do Frodo much good, I think that if you are quiet and follow Lord Elrond's and Mithrandír's directions you may be with him. They have sent the other Healers and me away; Lord Elrond and Mithrandír are the only two who can heal this wound now," she said. Samwise barely waited for her to finish before he bolted around her and into the room where Frodo lay. Aragorn chuckled softly. A silence fell upon the room until Legolas sought to break it.

"Anariel, I do not believe you had the pleasure of meeting Lord Aragorn when he was in Mirkwood. Aragorn, the Lady Anariel accompanied me here and is now under the tutelage of Lord Elrond," Legolas said awkwardly.

"Indeed I did not," Anariel said with a smile. "Well met," she said, curtsying.

"Well met," Aragorn replied, placing his hand over his chest and bowing slightly. "May I trouble you to ask how Frodo fares?" he asked.

"He is gravely ill… indeed his wound is something I have never seen before. Lord Elrond is helping him admirably, but I believe it will be some time before the Halfling is well again if he recovers. It is not certain at the moment," Anariel reported, "Lord Elrond did say that if you were to appear, Lord Aragorn, he should be glad of your help once you have recovered from the road."

"Thank you," Aragorn replied, "I shall return within the hour. Please excuse me," he said. And with a short bow, he was gone.

Legolas was still facing the staircase when he felt Anariel approach him and take hold of his arm. He turned to her and saw that she was leaning on him for support. Tears were in her eyes and he had one of her hands at her chest, which was rising and falling rapidly as if she was having trouble getting air. She leaned into him and Legolas reacted swiftly, putting his hands on her waist to steady her. Her distress was palpable in the air around them.

"Anariel," he said in alarm, "are you well?"

"I need to be outside," the elleth replied almost breathlessly. She would not meet his eyes. "I need air."

"Come, lean on me," Legolas beckoned softly. Anariel looped her arm in his and allowed the prince to lead her down the stairs and to a door leading outside. Once they were out of doors, Legolas led the way to a grassy area near a grove of trees. He guided Anariel to a seated position against a beech tree and sat in front of her on his knees. The prince looked all around her person for signs of physical wounds and found none. He took Anariel's face in his hands and looked into her eyes, brushing away some of her fallen tears with his thumbs. She looked at him with unfocused eyes.

"Melethril, what ails you?" He asked gently.

"I cannot say," Anariel said, still sounding winded, "being in that room… it was if my head would burst…"

"Why?" Legolas asked.

"The Halfling carries something evil with him, Legolas… I am not sure what it is, but it was in my mind twisting my thoughts, it was in my head, whispering things," Anariel replied in a voice that was barely audible. The prince noticed that she was shaking as he held her and he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"It cannot harm you," Legolas said, taking her shoulders in his hands to steady her.

"I am not so certain." Anariel replied, looking into his eyes.

Legolas desperately desired to assuage her fears, but felt himself at a loss as to what action he could take. So, without completely understanding what he was doing, Legolas exhaled deeply and let his spirit flow to her. Anariel, sensing his feä tugging at the edges of her mind, closed her eyes and breathed as she allowed Legolas' feä wash over hers, enveloping her in his undiminished strength.

"I will not let it harm you," she heard him say in a voice meant only for her.

Anariel's world came back to order in that moment and her distress melted away. Barely aware of her actions, she reached up and rested one of her hands at the base of Legolas' neck and the other on the side of his face and kissed him gently at first, and then with need. Legolas responded hesitantly, as if out of concern for her, but soon found his hands sliding down her shoulders and to her hips instinctually. Anariel pulled Legolas against herself and the heat between them began to rise.

Legolas thought he was on the verge of losing his mind when he felt Anariel take one of his hands and guide it to the outside of her thigh where there was a pocket sewn into her dress. There was something in it. He broke their kiss to see that she was already gazing at him intently. Questions bubbled in Legolas' mind.

"What – "

"Take it," Anariel said almost breathlessly.

As chastely as possible, Legolas reached into her pocket and pulled out an unsealed envelope. When he unfolded the papers, two letters fell out into Anariel's lap. She took one, but nodded at Legolas as he reached for and opened the second.

"Read it," she requested.

Legolas untangled himself from her and sat back upon his knees at her side as he read the letter aloud:

"_Dearest daughter, _

_I received your letter, and all are glad to know that you and the others have arrived safely in Imladris. I shall admit, though, your mother was most affronted by your secret departure. Do not worry, she will recover. _

_I have refrained from speaking in the past, but the time now seems ripe to tell you: if an occasion arises requiring the permission of your house to seek engagement with Prince Legolas, you should know your mother and I heartily consent. We have gone before the Elvenking to discuss the matter, and you will find enclosed with my letter a corresponding letter for the Prince, as well as rings. _

_Please know that we love and support you, and look forward to your homecoming. _

_Your loving father."_

Legolas looked up at Anariel in astonishment only to discover that Anariel was looking at him. She had picked up the second letter and started to read as soon as he had finished.

"_May it be known that the Elvenking, Thranduil, son of Oropher, and all of his House give consent for Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of the Woodland Realm, permission to be trothplighted to Anariel, daughter of Alagos and Naerdiel." _

Meeting Legolas' eyes with a smile, Anariel added, "You should also know that all of your house who are of age have signed. Prince Hérion has written a post-script; '_Sooner rather than later, please, little brother.'_"

She then handed the parchment over for Legolas to see his entire family's signatures; Thranduil, Arthion, Elaneth, and Hérion. The prince was unable to prevent himself from laughing as he read it over again and again.

"When did you – "

"I received it this morning. My original letter to my father mentioned nothing of us, only that we were here safely."

Legolas looked up at her from the corners of his eyes and smirked. "Did a hobbit put you up to this?" He asked with a joke in his voice.

"Of course not!" Anariel replied, swatting his arm and laughing.

"Well, then," the prince began as he reached into the pocket of his belt where the two rings he had purchased earlier that day were waiting. He presented the silver ring to Anariel and took her hand. She froze in surprise as he continued, "Lady Anariel, I love you and wish to be bound to you for all eternity. I offer this ring as a symbol of my promise. Will you be my wife?"

Anariel had to suppress a laugh of joy with her hand before collecting herself enough to reply, "Yes, I will be your wife."

Legolas slid the ring onto her right index finger and kissed her hand. With her left hand, Anariel reached back into her dress pocket and pulled out a silver ring of her own and presented it to Legolas.

"Prince Legolas, I love you and wish to be bound to you for all eternity. I offer this ring as a symbol of my promise. Will you be my husband?" She asked.

"Yes, I will be your husband," Legolas responded as he watched Anariel take his right hand and slide her silver ring onto his index finger. She then lifted his hand to her lips and bestowed a kiss of her own.

"I suppose it will be difficult to maintain our secrecy now," Anariel remarked, letting his hand go.

"Especially when Master Bilbo notices," Legolas replied, rising to his feet and offering Anariel his hands, "but let them talk. Come, I want to see the look on Gelir's face when I present you as my betrothed."

With a smile and a laugh, Anariel let Legolas pull her off the ground and lead her away.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. "Gwaedh" is Sindarin for "bond."

2. All of this stuff about the joining of houses, betrothal, and marriage comes from _Laws and Customs of the Eldar_ (commonly referred to as LACE), from Morgoth's Ring. Tolkien says that wedding rings are worn on the index finger of the right hand. I can't see any reason why the engagement ring wouldn't also be worn there, since elves don't wear engagement rings after they are married. Elvish engagement is typically one year.

I realize that Tolkien does say that elves may abandon all of these rites and permissions in times of strife and war. Legolas and Anariel have their reasons for wanting to stick with the customs of their people as much as possible, and I hope that will be clear within the next couple of chapters.


	6. I Cân

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
The Sea Calls Us Home_  
Chapter Five – I Cân

News of Legolas' and Anariel's betrothal had little room to spread with so many things taking place within a short span of days, and they were content to let the occasion go unmarked. Both were excited enough to shout it from the mountainsides if they felt it necessary, but somehow, it felt more like magic to keep it between themselves.

Elrond held a Council on October the twenty-fifth, where Legolas learned much of the world outside Mirkwood and finally had the opportunity to share his news of Gollum. While the Council lasted for some time, the only thing that had been decided was that the One Ring of Sauron must be destroyed in the fires of Orodruin. After the Council, messengers were sent abroad to tell and gather news from friends.

Legolas and Anariel sent letters to their families with news of their trothplight and that their plans were to keep the length of the betrothal to the customary year. Privately, though, Legolas did not think they would have a year to wait. Fate seemed to have other plans for them.

October and November waned and passed away. Cold air began to settle in the valley and December was upon them when the first messengers began to return. It was a snowy mid-December day when a messenger arrived from Mirkwood with not only news for Lord Elrond, but for all of Legolas' entourage.

Prince Legolas was sitting at the desk in the room he had occupied since his arrival in Imladris, reading over his father's letter to him with no small amount of amusement.

"_My dear son, _

_I have sent my official, detailed report addressed to Lord Elrond, who I expect will consult with you once he has read it. Dol Guldur remains quiet, but busy. _

_While you and I both may be loathe to admit it, we are more alike than perhaps even we realize. We may not see eye-to-eye on all matters, but I hope that at least in this instance I may be able to offer you some counsel. I am glad to hear of your betrothal to the Lady Anariel. We will happily accept her as our family upon your return. _

_Do not let the customs of our stuffy Court dictate your decisions with your betrothed. Follow your heart – wherever it may lead – and use the strength of your bond to support and sustain each other. I have not one regret about my marriage to your mother. Her love carried me through many a dark day and night. _

_I remain, most proudly, _

_Your father, Thranduil."_

Legolas was wondering what, exactly, his father had been expecting of him when a knock came at his door.

"Enter," he called.

The door opened and Legolas turned to see Aragorn looking well-rested and clean, but clothed as though he was ready to depart for the hills. He was warmly dressed in what appeared to be traveling clothes and a heavy cloak. He carried a knife, sword, and bow and arrows.

"Well met," Legolas greeted as he stood and placed a hand on his breast, giving a bow of respect.

"Well met, Legolas," Aragorn said, returning the gesture, "I hope I have not interrupted?" The Dúnedan asked, nodding at the papers the elven prince had just discarded on his writing table.

"Ah, nay, I had just finished reading. They are letters from my family in Mirkwood, they arrived with my father's report to Lord Elrond," Legolas replied with a smile, "may I be of assistance to you? You appear to be ready to slay dragons."

Aragorn chuckled. "Dragons, perhaps not," he said, "but I cannot remain idle for so long. I need to get out of the house for some time and I thought I would take the day to hunt. Would you care to join me?"

Legolas took a moment to do a mental inventory of his plans for the day before answering. He glanced back at the writing desk and Elrond's name on his father's letter caught his eye.

"I should ensure Lord Elrond does not wish a word with me about the concerns of the Council now he has received my father's report, perhaps…"

"There is no need," Aragorn interrupted him, prompting Legolas to look at him quizzically. "I have spoken with Lord Elrond this morning, he asked me to tell you he wishes to speak with you tomorrow."

Seeing no impediment to the excursion, Legolas accepted. Aragorn agreed to meet him shortly in the courtyard, allowing the prince a few moments to collect his gear and to compose a short note to Anariel, which he slipped under her door as he passed on his way to meet Aragorn.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Once the two were out of Imladris and well into the woods, it did not take long for them to discover they made a good team. As it turned out, Aragorn had been raised in Imladris and knew the woods and animals about the Last Homely House very well. For what Aragorn lacked in sight and hearing, Legolas more than compensated. Their minds were alike, and while separated they could anticipate the other's movements while tracking game. Very few of the unsuspecting animals in the woods that day would have been a much of a match for the Dúnedan and elf. And, since they were mostly out hunting to stretch their legs, Aragorn and Legolas prolonged their chases as long as possible. They mostly tracked deer, seeking out the largest and cleverest bucks they could trail through the snow.

At midday, they took a respite. Aragorn led Legolas to a place where the Imladris elves kept dry firewood for patrols working in the forests at night. They talked of their lives and impressions of members of the Council while Aragorn built a fire and Legolas cleaned a pheasant he had shot earlier.

"So," Aragorn began after building a fire of satisfactory size, "have you any thoughts on this _quest_ for the East?"

Legolas stared at the Dúnedan's as he skewered the pheasant meat onto two sticks to use as spits. He handed one to Aragorn.

"These woods are well protected by Elrond. We may speak generally," the man said, answering Legolas' unasked question. The elf nodded.

"Only that I think the little one should not go alone," Legolas replied of Frodo, thrusting his spit over the fire, "I know little of the strength of our foe, much less the situation abroad. Any opinion I could offer would be uninformed."

"Hm," Aragorn smirked but did not look at Legolas over the fire as he chuckled, "he does not go alone; his gardener has volunteered to go."

"Indeed," Legolas laughed.

"And you know more of our foe than you admit. Mithrandir tells me you have been in command of the Mirkwood Guard for some time," Aragorn added.

"Yes, the Interior Guard," Legolas said, "I have experience with Orcs and their habits."

"And in battle, I am told," the man said. The elven prince stared at him.

"Yes. The Battle of Five Armies," Legolas confirmed. It was clear that Aragorn was asking these questions for a purpose, and the elf could not help but frown as he tried to make out the man's mind. Aragorn, seeing the prince's change in expression, made himself plain.

"Lord Elrond means to send out seven more to accompany our two walkers. Mithrandir and I shall go, and we wish to ask also for elves and dwarves, to encompass the skills of all free folk of Middle Earth," Aragorn explained.

"Dwarves?" Legolas asked with a snort. It seemed impossible to him that a dwarf should want to leave his cave for anything other than gold, but Aragorn seemed quite serious so Legolas did not press the matter. And then it dawned on him.

"And elves," the prince stated.

"And elves," confirmed Aragorn.

Cold seemed to descend upon Legolas as though a bucket of water had been poured over his head.

"You are asking me to come with you," he said in quiet shock, locking eyes with Aragorn.

"Mithrandir has confidence in your abilities, as do I," Aragorn said. "I understand we ask much. We will not think less of you should you decline."

Legolas was stunned, but continue to steadily watch the Dúnedan, who was leaned forward in his seated position across the fire from Legolas. His eyebrows were raised, and his clear blue eyes were watching Legolas expectantly.

It seemed to the prince that the silver betrothal ring on his index finger felt heavy and a sense of dread filled him. If this question would have been asked of him a year ago or earlier, he would have leapt at the chance. But so much had changed, and now he did not think himself available or worthy of the task. He sighed heavily.

"I wish to lend my talents where they may be best used to protect my family and my people," Legolas began, holding up his right hand, "but I fear I must consult another before I may give you my answer."

Seeing the ring, Aragorn's eyes widened, "But Legolas," he cried, "I had not heard! Congratulations!"

Legolas chuckled and nodded, "A good time to announce the news did not present itself. But thank you," he explained, "Lady Anariel and I have agreed on the customary year to wait."

"Hm," Aragorn nodded, but slipped into a pensive silence. He seemed to change in that moment as he smiled faintly and gazed into the fire, eyes unfocused, as if he was thinking of a time long passed.

"I have a similar burden," the Dúnedan said at length in a quiet and almost sad tone. Legolas looked at him quizzically. Aragorn wore no outward sign of such a trothplight, but the elven prince knew the man was not lying by the tone of his voice and softness in his eyes. Legolas felt a sudden kinship with Aragorn as he continued,

"I have no choice before me. My fate has been bound to this quest since before my birth, and I cannot turn. Though I bear it bitterly, I will admit that not having the choice to stay or go is sometimes easier." Aragorn paused, and then looked squarely at Legolas as he spoke again, "As I have said, none will think less of you if you decide not to join us. We all stand on the brink, and things have been set in motion to force us to face the darkness to rise in glory or fall into despair. Nonetheless, I ask for your help, Prince Legolas, in this last desperate act."

Legolas sat, frozen to the ground as the words his mother spoke to him in a vision years ago echoed through Aragorn's request. He knew what he must do.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel was on the balcony outside his room when he returned at the setting of the sun. She was dressed for dinner already, wearing a pale pink dress which illuminated her hair and eyes well, Legolas thought. As he approached her, the prince took a breath and concealed the sadness emanating from his feä from her. He was not sure he succeeded when he saw a momentary flicker of hurt in her eyes, but Anariel said nothing of the matter. Wordlessly, she smiled at him as she swept over the balcony and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. He pulled back after a moment and she accepted the kiss he offered. Her hands found their way up to the sides of his face and into his hair.

"Hm. You appear to be in need of a bath," she teased, pulling away as her fingers got caught in some of the tangles.

"If my lady insists," he replied, kissing her once more. She returned the kiss. Unable to help himself, Legolas placed another kiss on her jawline and then behind her ear. It seemed by her soft sigh and momentary limpness in his arms that Anariel was inclined to indulge in more of this behavior, but she regained her senses shortly and tweaked his ear. Legolas pulled away and cried out in surprise.

"Come now, none of that," she chastised with a playful smile, "I said I wished you clean, and I will have my way!"

Legolas stepped back from her and gave a sweeping bow. "As my lady commands," he mocked her.

Anariel crossed her arms and shook her head as she chuckled at him. "Go," she said, "I ordered your bath earlier. I shall be here when you are decent again."

The prince smiled genuinely at her as he straightened himself. He kissed her once more on the forehead.

"Thank you, my love," he said quietly as he turned to enter his room and bath chamber. Anariel simply nodded, watching him with a loving smile as he drew away from her.

He emerged from his bath not long afterward in his brown and green court tunic and breeches to find Anariel had made herself comfortable in the sitting area of his room and was scanning a map of the Misty Mountains that was open on the low table between the chairs. She looked up and smiled at him, and Legolas suddenly fell victim to an awkwardness to which he was unaccustomed. Anariel had certainly seen him wearing less once – when he was ward of the healing rooms of Mirkwood – but things had changed drastically between them since then. When dressed in his court clothing before an elleth, it was improper to be without his robes and his hair to be down, strictly speaking.

Unabashed, Anariel smiled at him and stood. She fetched the light green velvet robe that went over his trousers and tunic and approached, holding it open for him. Hesitantly, Legolas turned away from her and slipped his arms into the sleeves. He felt a strange sort-of thrill as he pulled the robe up over his shoulders and felt Anariel's fingers gliding across his back, straightening the fabric.

"Come, sit," she beckoned him quietly as she walked back to the sitting area. Wordlessly, he obeyed and sat down on one of the couches as she directed. She moved to stand behind the couch and began to run her fingers through his still-damp hair. Legolas startled at first, but did not move away. Her fingernails brushed gently against his scalp and his eyes drifted closed, relishing an intimacy wholly new to him.

After a few moments, Anariel began to pull his hair back in the customary style of the elves of the Woodland Realm; half-pulled back with a fishtail plait in the back, and two small plaits behind the ears to show his status.

"Anariel," Legolas managed to say softly, "you do not have –"

"My naneth does this for my adar," Anariel spoke over him as she moved to the last braid. Legolas sat in pensive silence again, wondering what other intimacies couples shared. He had never thought about the things his parents had done for each other when his mother was alive, and he had only observed fleeting glances of closeness between his intensely private brother, Arthion, and his wife, Elaneth.

Legolas sighed in audible frustration at the news he must share as he felt Anariel finish her work. He reached his right hand over his left shoulder to catch his betrothed's retreating fingers. Anariel allowed her hand to be captured and gave Legolas' an affectionate squeeze.

"You have something to tell me," she said softly. She was not asking.

Legolas did not speak, but gave a gentle tug on her hand, guiding her around her around the sofa to sit beside him. She kept firm hold on his hand as she sat directly beside him, her left leg brushing against his right. Taking a deep breath, he met her eyes and explained to her in full detail what had taken place at the Council of Elrond and the decision that had been made, and then the discussion he'd had with Aragorn only a handful of hours ago. Anariel listened and gazed upon him intensely, rooted to the spot by their intertwined fingers.

"I asked you once if you would allow me to fight for our future together, and I feel now that I have been called to fulfill that duty. But," he paused, taking a breath, "you have ever been my wisest councilor and truest friend, and my heart. I make no decision without you. If you wish me to stay with you, I will."

Anariel's face was unreadable, but she suddenly sputtered out a bit of a laugh as she replied.

"That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard cross your lips, Legolas," she half-heartedly admonished him. "Of course you must go."

For the second time that day, Legolas sat in stunned silence, unsure how to answer. He had been prepared for Anariel to ask him to stay with her; to perhaps return home to Mirkwood where they could look after their families in the growing darkness and maybe one day finally marry. She had always sought after him, putting herself in great danger to be at his side. Why now would she change her mind?

"Anariel, I do not understand," he said finally.

"You think me contradictory," she observed, shrugging her shoulders and looking away for a moment, "And I suppose you are right. But even I can see the differences between the past and what is before us. You are not running from me. This is no mere duty for you. You have been summoned," Anariel said, "I see it in your eyes, and I feel it in your spirit. I love you Legolas, and though it will be bitter waiting, you must go and seize your destiny."

Something about her words and countenance made everything in Legolas' world fall into place. He had been divided in mind all afternoon, feeling the need to accept Aragorn's call but also to defend his loved ones and home. He released her hand and reached up to hold her face in his hands.

"I promise you, I will do all within my power to return to you," he said.

Anariel nodded and offered him a tearful smile as she replied, "I trust you."

Legolas gathered Anariel in his arms and held her against him. They remained in each other's embrace until the evening bell summoned them to the House dinner, where Legolas gave his affirmative answer to Aragorn with Anariel at his side.

* * *

**NOTES**

"I Cân" means "the call."


	7. Llach

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
_Chapter Six – Lhach

Night was falling, and there was a chill in the air. It had not been many days since Legolas had agreed to join the Fellowship, and the company was set to depart the next night.

Anariel sat at the vanity in her room, braiding flowers into her hair. She felt strangely calm, considering all that was to happen over the next several hours. It had taken some time to let go of the seizing terror she'd felt initially when Legolas had decided to join the Fellowship, but she was determined to be as supportive as possible and bolstered up as best as possible. They had spent much time together in the days afterward, deciding how to put their affairs in order before he left. Somehow, having a plan was comforting.

Though she greatly wished to return to Mirkwood, scouts had informed Lord Elrond that the return trip was becoming impossible to make safely. Not even Saelon, Gelir, or the other elves who had accompanied them would be returning to the Woodland Realm for the foreseeable future. This news weighed upon them heavily for the safety of their friends and families. Especially on this night particularly for Anariel, she wished to see her parents, if only for a moment. Her feä's connection with her parents had always been strong; though it was difficult to commune with them from afar, she'd found. Nonetheless, as she reached out to them in her mind she could feel them, offering their love and support as best they could. It seemed to her that they knew what was happening.

Fleetingly, Anariel wondered to herself if the feeling she had was at all similar to the way Legolas' mother felt on the eve of Thranduil's departure to join the Last Alliance. She felt an odd sort-of kinship with Almwen now, and found herself missing someone she didn't even know.

A knock upon her door interrupted her thoughts.

"Enter," she called, finishing her braid and smoothing her lavender gown. It was a rather simple gown for the occasion, she thought, but that could not be helped on such short notice.

The door creaked open and Saelon appeared. He was dressed in the finest clothes he had brought with him; green and silver robes with a circlet of leaves around his head. His grey eyes seemed to glow and he smiled when he saw her reflection in the mirror over her shoulder.

"You are most beautiful, my lady," he said, stopping inside the doorway and offering her an abbreviated bow.

"Thank you," Anariel replied, trying to hide her blush by looking down as she pushed away from the vanity. She turned, having collected herself, and walked over to where the ambassador stood and took the arm he offered her. "And thank you for your service to us this night," she added, "we are in your debt."

"You most certainly are not. We are all pleased to be present for Prince Legolas, and for you. It is an honor to be with you on this auspicious occasion. But come," Saelon said, "your prince awaits."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The moon and stars shone brightly down into the glade where Legolas and the others of the Mirkwood company stood, waiting for Saelon to appear with Anariel. He pulled at the long, green velvet sleeves of his robe nervously, and he knew that all around him were watching in amusement. Vexed, he tried to will his nervousness away with a deep breath.

"Prince Legolas," a nasal voice came from behind him. Legolas put forth a great effort not to groan. He could not handle a lecture from Gelir just now.

"Yes, Lord Gelir," the prince sighed, turning to face the ambassador. Legolas was surprised to see the usually tightly-wound Gelir's calm, almost happy demeanor.

"While you know I think this event is best suited for your father's halls," he began with an eyebrow raised and a smile on his lips. Legolas was shocked – was _Gelir_ teasing him?

"I am happy for you," Gelir continued, "and offer you my blessings."

The prince could only stand there and blink in mute astonishment for several moments before mumbling his thanks.

Suddenly, a hush came over the elves in the glade who had previously been chatting softly. Legolas turned away from Gelir and felt his breath leave him in one great _whoosh_ when his eyes landed upon Anariel who had entered the glade on the arm of Saelon. She wore a simple, but beautiful lavender gown with silver details. Her blue eyes found his, and the prince found himself transfixed. Anariel was radiant, smiling hopefully at him as if to ask if Legolas approved of her look. Surely, the prince thought, he'd never seen anyone or anything so beautiful in his life.

About halfway to where Legolas and the other elves stood, Saelon and Anariel stopped.

"Now comes Anariel, daughter of Alagos and Naerdiel, before Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of the Woodland Realm," Saelon pronounced, beginning the ancient ritual.

"For what purpose does she come?" Gelir asked.

"To fulfill our troth, and be wedded this day," Anariel replied steadily, her eyes ever on Legolas.

"Then let her come forth, and let us be wed," Legolas finished, holding out his hands.

Saelon released Anariel from his arm, and she took two graceful steps forward, her smile glowing like the sun as she reached out and placed her hands in Legolas', who pulled her towards him. He then took the silver betrothal ring from her right finger and slipped it into a pocket, from whence he retrieved a golden wedding band. He placed it on her finger, saying as he did so:

"In the name of Manwë, I take thee, Anariel to be my wife. I pledge to love, honor, serve, and protect thee for all of time."

Anariel similarly removed the silver engagement band from Legolas' finger and replaced it with the golden wedding band her father had sent. She spoke:

"In the name of Varda, I take thee, Legolas, to be my husband. I pledge to love, honor, serve, and protect thee for all of time."

"Before Eru these our kingdom's children have spoken," Saelon and Gelir said in unison, "let them be joined in love and honor eternally."

Legolas and Anariel leaned towards each other and kissed, and in that moment they both felt something change within themselves. The bond that had been growing between them was more present and tangible than it had been ever before. The world seemed still as Legolas and Anariel gazed upon each other in a sense of wonder.

Those in their company came forward to give their congratulations and blessings, and then they all departed together to attend the evening festivities Lord Elrond had planned for the guests of his house.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

With the evening meal over, folk adjourned to the Hall of Fire for song and dance. Anariel and Legolas had decided, since this was not a celebration of their wedding – or, indeed, a celebration at all – they would not dance together until they were ready to retire from the Hall. Legolas diplomatically danced with elleth of Lord Elrond's house, and Anariel likewise danced ellon; Glorfindel and Elrohir, and others. Little Peregrine Took asked to teach her a jig, and she danced 'round with the halfling for a few dances until Mithrandir admonished the Hobbit for his disturbing boisterousness. With a laugh at Mithrandir's wink, Anariel retired from the dance floor.

She could see Legolas was dancing with Arwen, and beyond them on the opposite side of the Hall, Aragorn was standing off to the side speaking with the man from the South; Boromir. Anariel suddenly was seized by a desire to speak with the Dúnedan, and moved around the dancers. She could feel Legolas' eyes on her as she went. She found, strangely, that she could also feel the questions bubbling in his mind in her direction. The elleth cast a glance at him over her shoulder and smiled in reassurance.

As she approached she could hear that Aragorn and Boromir were discussing which roads would be safest. Their conversation ended when Aragorn said as finitely as he could:

"We put our trust in Mithradir and Frodo. They shall decide by which roads they travel."

"For now," sourly replied Boromir.

"Peace, Boromir," Aragorn replied, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the lady from Mirkwood. The man glanced over his shoulder and regarded her, then turned and strode away.

"My lady Anariel," Aragorn greeted her.

"Lord Aragorn," the elleth curtsied.

"How do you fare?" He asked.

"As well as can be," was her reply as she turned and leaned against the wall next to him. Truthfully, Anariel was not sure which end was up, or what she should feel. She was delighted beyond measure to be married, but trying not to despair at her husband's departure and the significant risks to his life on the road ahead. Tense seemed to be the only word that actually came to her mind. She could sense the same feeling in Aragorn as he held his chin in his hand, scratching at his beard as he watched over the dancers. A silence fell upon the two as they glanced out on the crowd, both pairs of eyes following one couple who were still dancing together as friends.

"Tomorrow you take him with you," Anariel broke the silence. The Heir of Elendil glanced over at her and then back at Legolas and Arwen.

"Legolas? Yes," Aragorn replied. "He is very brave in answering the call of the Council. I shall be glad to have him by my side."

The dark-haired elleth took her eyes off the crowd and looked at Aragorn. She bit her lip for a moment, and then spoke.

"May I ask a favor of you?"

Aragorn met her eyes. His expression gave away nothing as he replied at length, "Certainly."

"Keep him safe," Anariel said simply and quietly, not looking away as her cheeks flushed. "He is my husband."

Aragorn shifted in surprise, and his eyes flickered down to her right hand, catching sight of the golden band on her finger. He smiled and nodded at her, but Anariel could see grief in his eyes. Despite this, he quickly offered his congratulations to her and then continued,

"I can do this, but I must ask a favor in return," he said.

"Of course."

"Watch over my beloved as well."

Anariel, puzzled, furrowed her brow. Her questions were answered when Aragorn returned his gaze to the dancers, and she followed his eyes until her sight fell upon Arwen, and then she understood.

"I will," she promised with a smile. Aragorn nodded and thanked her, and a companionable silence descended upon them as they both ruminated over their circumstances and newfound connection with each other. Anariel marveled at Aragorn's and Arwen's choices. She and Legolas had agreed that they desired to be married before he left so they could take comfort in each other's presence. There was obviously no time to plan for the future outside of their bond. The idea of reunion and children someday in the future would be a beacon of hope for both of them. But upon Aragorn's shoulders sat the hope of mankind. With no heir, hope would perish with him, if it should come to that.

"Are you afraid?" Anariel suddenly asked Aragorn. He looked at her and considered her question.

"I fear what will happen should we fail," he replied frankly. "Not for myself, but for those we should leave behind."

The expression on Aragorn's face told the elleth that there was more that he was not saying, but she did not press him. And, in any event, she sensed Legolas approaching her, and she turned to see that the dance had ended and Legolas and Arwen stood before them.

"Making new friends I see," Arwen remarked to Aragorn, a resplendent smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, the Lady Anariel and I are finding we have some things in common," Aragorn replied, smiling at the elleth from Mirkwood. Legolas glanced between the two of them with questioning eyes. Before he had a chance to ask any questions, however, Aragorn held out his hand to Arwen.

"My lady, may I have this dance?" He asked. The daughter of Elrond gracefully nodded her head. The four bowed respectfully again and Legolas stepped aside to let Aragorn claim Arwen's arm. When Anariel and Legolas were alone, he stepped close to her, and held out his hand.

"I know it is not the Feast of the Forest," he said with a smile, recalling their age-old tradition of attending the Feast of the Forest together, "but will you dance with me?"

Anariel smiled and nodded, finding that she could not speak over the many emotions tumbling over her. The music began as they reached the floor, and Anariel could not help but let out a laugh when she recognized the song. Legolas stared at her as they began the steps.

"Do you not recognize it, Legolas?"

The prince thought for a moment, and gasped almost audibly when it dawned on him.

"Our last dance," he said quietly. Images played across his memory of the way she had looked to him on that night so many years ago when Thranduil had held a feast for Mithrandir; of how Anariel had tried to confront him and how he had shied away. He could not help but laugh shamefully at how poorly he had fended her off. He would never forget the look on her face that night, and how it tore his heart in two to watch her go. Images of their encounters afterwards flashed in his mind; of their icy meeting in Arthion's healing room, awkward encounters in hallways, and finally, when she came to find him the night Gollum disappeared.

As they moved through the steps, Legolas pulled her closer than the danced required.

"Thank you for coming to find me, my love," he said softly into her ear. He felt her shudder.

"I will always, Legolas," she whispered.

He pulled away and looked into her eyes as they continued through the steps of the dance. To them, they were the only ones in the room. All else was lost as they communed silently, the fires of their love for each other kindling in earnest. Legolas was not sure how much time had passed when, with an affectionate squeeze of her hands, he led Anariel off the dance floor. She seemed magnetically attracted to his side, and he allowed her to possessively loop her arm in his as they walked off into the night towards Legolas' chamber. They gave no care to any who may have seen them leave, and no one stopped them.

* * *

**NOTES**

1._ Lhach_ means "flame."

2. On Legolas and Anariel's marrriage: we know from LACE that really the only thing elves require for marriage is the act of bodily union (ahem), but I thought that the act of binding houses together would be important, especially for one of royal lineage such as Legolas. Tolkien says that the ceremony was a way for the families to display their love and favor on the union, and it's my feeling that devoted subjects of the Elvenking would want to give their blessing if no family was available (particularly since Anariel and Legolas had obtained blessings for their betrothal in writing). The vows were adapted from Tolkien's description of the ceremony in LACE, and inspired by Nilmandra's version of the vows in her story, "A Fire Long Kindled."

* * *

_Hi readers! _

_Because we are about halfway through the story, I wanted to take a quick moment to thank those who have left reviews; I deeply appreciate your thoughtfulness and I'll be reaching out to you all individually in a moment. Real life's been a bear recently so I'm a little behind in my correspondence - sorry. Also thanks to all of you who have followed and added this story to your favorites (but not reviewed!?). Hope you're enjoying! _

_Just wanted to also give you a head's up that things are about to go awry for all of the characters, but don't worry. Things have to get really bad before they can get really great, right?_

_Happy reading!_

_Vendie._


	8. Namárië

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
_Chapter Seven – Namárië

Legolas woke slowly to a cool, gray morning. A breeze moved slowly through the branches outside and the Prince of Mirkwood could hear dried leaves fluttering along the pathways of Imladris just outside his door. The whispers of the trees floated in the breeze, but Legolas found he could pay them no mind as he gazed upon Anariel, his wife.

The prince smiled to himself as he contemplated the word in silence.

Wife. _His_ wife. His Anariel.

A feeling of true wholeness, the likes of which he'd never before experienced, came over him. As son of the Elvenking, he had certainly wanted for nothing materially. Though as he watched his beloved sleep, he could do little but marvel at the sensation of having found something that he had been seeking all his life.

His thoughts wandered to his parents, and with a pang of sadness he wished that they could have been present to welcome Anariel into the family and to comfort her in the time to come. Legolas noted with no small measure of irony Thranduil's and Almwen's experiences could instruct both him and Anariel as they prepared for and endured a separation of unknown length.

Anariel stirred and sighed in her sleep, which was a happy distraction for the prince. She was between dreams, he realized, although he could not understand how he knew. He could feel her spirit searching, as if reaching out to him to see if he was awake.

He reached out to brush some stray hair behind her ear. Anariel inhaled deep, and slowly her eyelids lifted and their two sets of blue eyes met. Anariel smiled, but said nothing. She snuggled closer and Legolas opened his arms to her, stealing a kiss in the process. "Good morning," Legolas said with a smile.

"Hmm. Indeed, my husband," Anariel replied, appearing to enjoy using the new term of endearment as she smiled at him in satisfaction.

They settled together; Legolas reclining on the pillow with Anariel held against him, her head resting under his chin. A comfortable silence settled over them again. Anariel shifted against him and brought her right hand to rest over his chest where she could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart. She closed her eyes, as if memorizing the pattern. Legolas watched her in almost amused interest for a few moments.

"Am I well?" He asked coyly.

"Hmph," Anariel chuckled, meeting his eyes. "Only through my superior skill in the art of healing."

Legolas laughed. He remembered, as he knew Anariel was, the time he spent in the Woodland Realm's healing houses and how they met. She sat up, hugging the sheets to her body and searched with her hand down Legolas' left side for his scar. Her touch sent a thrill over his skin.

Anariel ran her fingers over the raised flesh on his side, just beyond his stomach, and a shadow crossed her face. She remembered Legolas' body, lying prone and pale in the Houses of Healing, and fear began to tug at her heart for the journey yet ahead of him.

Legolas watched her intently as her mind wandered over her memories from all those years ago. Her grief and fears were laid bare to him in her eyes and in their bond, and with his right hand he reached across his stomach to claim her hand in his.

"I gave you my promise; I will return to you," he said steadily, gazing into her eyes.

Anariel faintly smiled and nodded as she leaned down to kiss him. Everything in her mind was also in his; her complete trust in him building a resistance to the darkness of what lay ahead. As Legolas returned her kiss, with growing urgency, he opened his mind to her as well. Despite his fears for the future, he wanted to assure her of his confidence that this was what he was meant to do – that no matter the ending he felt assured that he would endure.

And so, for the first time, Legolas allowed Anariel to see his memories of the vision from his mother.

Startled, Anariel pulled back into a seated position over him.

"Was that – ?"

"Yes," Legolas replied. He had never told anyone of the vision before – not even his family – and was suddenly nervous that Anariel would not understand. "It happened just before I met you," he added softly.

His wife stared at him, her sky-colored eyes wide in amazement. A smile broke across her face and she leaned over him again, snaking her hands under his torso in an embrace which he sat up to accept. He could feel the peace that had settled in her, and relief flooded over him.

"Thank you, Legolas, for sharing her with me," she said, pressing a kiss to the side of his face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Much though Legolas was loathe to be away from Anariel at all that day, he traversed Imladris later that afternoon seeking Lord Elrond. He found the head of the Last Homely House just outside his study speaking with Gandalf in hushed tones. When Legolas rounded the corner and saw their grave faces, he was about to turn to leave.

"Prince Legolas?" Elrond asked, noticing him.

"Forgive me, I wished to speak with you, Lord Elrond, but it may wait," Legolas replied, bowing his head in preparation to leave them.

"No, no, we are finished, Prince. I must go meet with the Hobbits. Young Peregrin requires some managing," Mithrandir said, a gleam in his eye as he nodded to Elrond. The elven lord tilted his head and smiled in amusement at the wizard, who shuffled away down the hall in the opposite the direction from which Legolas came.

"Now, Prince Legolas, about what did you wish to speak with me?" Elrond asked, motioning for Legolas to follow him into the study.

"I wished to first thank you again for allowing those in my company to stay here in Imladris. I do believe, though, that if there is rumor of battle in the Woodland Realm, they will wish to ride out immediately," Legolas said as he followed Elrond and took a seat in the chair opposite the one the elven lord did.

"Imladris has ever been a home to those who wander," Elrond answered, "they are, of course, welcome here. There are others here who trace their kin back to the Woodland Realm. I am sure that if it comes to that, there will be several who ride out to aid the Elvenking."

Legolas nodded and smiled, but Elrond continued to watch him steadily. "There is something else you wish to tell me," he observed. The prince met Lord Elrond's eyes and found himself unnerved by the Noldor lord's keen glance.

"Lady Anariel and I have married," Legolas blurted out. Elrond looked less surprised than Legolas had expected.

"Congratulations," Elrond offered earnestly, though the smile on his face told the prince that he had been expecting this news.

"Thank you, my lord." Legolas replied. The elven lord smiled at him, but his unfocused grey eyes told the prince that Elrond could have been thinking of a time long past. Legolas did not speak, partially unsure of what to say and also not wanting to interrupt Elrond's thoughts – whatever they were. After a moment of silence, the elven lord continued;

"She will, of course, be safe and welcome here," he said, "although I cannot restrain her if she wishes to return to Mirkwood."

"No one could," Legolas laughed in spite of himself. Elrond smirked. "Though she has expressed a desire to continue her tutelage in healing."

"She is a very able student," Elrond said, nodding, "I daresay we will have need of more healers soon enough," he added. Legolas nodded and smiled, but the Lord of Imladris could see that he was still troubled.

"You are thinking of your parents," he noted.

Legolas stared at Lord Elrond, nonplussed.

"I traveled to the Woodland Realm several times over the years," Elrond explained with a wry smile. "Once, of course, at the forming of the Last Alliance. I made your father's acquaintance then. I met your mother much later and heard the tale of their marriage, when your father ascended the throne of Greenwood that was. Lady Almwen was certainly the jewel of your father's kingdom, and an anchor to him in times of trial. There was a quiet strength about her that I sense in you also."

Elrond paused as Legolas shifted almost uncomfortably in his chair. Much though he almost lived to hear stories of his mother, he felt nearly unworthy to be compared to her as she was held in such high esteem among the folk in Mirkwood. He continued to watch Elrond steadily, though, and the Noldor elf continued.

"You doubt this," he said, "but I speak to you truly now, just as others have done, I am sure. It is for this reason we asked you to be in the Company. Mithrandir and I have seen Lady Almwen's strength in you, and we trust that you and others may be able to lean on that strength as the road darkens."

"And Lady Anariel?" Legolas asked.

Elrond smiled as he stood and put his hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"She will be safe here, and she will be your light," he said.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

At dusk, all were gathered in the great hall of Imladris to bid farewell to the Nine Walkers. The company was ready, they were only waiting for Gandalf to join them. Frodo and Bilbo Baggins were on the steps sitting in silence while Sam fussed with the things in his pack. Aragorn was silent, deep in thought. Gimli son of Gloín was leaning on his axe, and Boromir was talking with Merry and Pippin quietly of his home in Gondor.

Legolas and Anariel stood off to one side, standing closely speaking softly to one another.

"You know what lies ahead for our people at home," Legolas said, gazing steadily into Anariel's eyes, "it is likely that war will come to them, and there will be some who wish to ride out from here to join in the defense of Mirkwood."

Anariel did not reply, but watched him with determination in her expression.

"I would prefer that you stay in Imladris," he began.

"Legolas you cannot ask me to remain idly behind while so many – you included – have gone off to defend the free peoples of Middle Earth in your own way – " Anariel, he could tell, was about to launch into a long lecture, but Legolas waved a hand to stop her. She stopped, set her jaw and sighed through her nose. His heart felt as though it were in a vise. What he _wished_ to tell her was, in fact, the exact opposite of what he was _going_ to tell her. He felt as though he was taking a leap in the dark. But it had to be done. He trusted her, and he must let her know.

"I would prefer that you stay here and be safe, but I know I cannot stop you from doing what you think right or ask you to be less than who you are. I love you, and I trust you. I only ask, as you have asked of me, to please be safe," he said, his voice faltering in the last words. He blinked, knowing that there were tears threatening to form in his eyes as he watched Anariel's expression soften. She reached out and took his hands in hers and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

"Are you offering your permission?" She asked, offering a little tease. Legolas could not help but chuckle as Lord Elrond's words – that she would be his light – echoed in his mind. He leaned close to her, letting their foreheads touch.

"You have never sought my permission before," he replied in a low, husky voice, and shaking his head against hers, "and you have no need of it. You have ever been my light. And the light goes where it will,"

Anariel stared straight into his eyes. "It is here," she said, untwining her right hand from his and placing it over his heart, "and here it shall always be."

Legolas could feel her steadfastness of heart and mind and drew comfort from her. Letting her other hand go, he wrapped his arm around her and let his hands come to rest at the small of her back and kissed her softly.

"I wish to give you something before I go," Legolas said as he pulled away. Anariel said nothing, but looked at him with a hint of confusion in her expression. His hands retreated to behind his neck and pulled out from under his tunic the necklace with the leaf pendant that his mother had given him at birth.

"Legolas – " she gasped.

"This belonged to my mother, as you know," Legolas said, interrupting her to quell her protestations. "She gave it to me at my birth, and it is my namesake. Wear it, and I will always be with you," he said, as he removed the necklace and held between them, waiting for Anariel to accept it. Her expression was quite unreadable, but he sensed love and grief all mixed together as she frowned in alarm.

"But it is yours, I cannot take this from you," she nearly whispered.

"Of course you can. You are my wife, half of my soul. It is as much yours as it is mine. Keep it and be at peace, for I shall always return for what is mine," he replied with a smile which Anariel could not help but return. She turned away from him and lifted her hair so he could fasten it around her neck. Legolas lifted the chain over her head and gently let it come to rest over her shoulders and neck. The chain was still warm from his body and it made Anariel shudder. After his work was finished, Legolas leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss just beyond the top of her shoulder. She turned to face him again and leaned up to kiss him gently.

"Return to me, husband," she pleaded.

"Always, my wife," Legolas said, kissing her again.

At that moment, Elrond and Gandalf came out of the doors and called the Company to them.

Once more, Legolas gazed into Anariel's blue eyes. "I love you," He said again.

"I love you," Anariel repeated. She stole one more kiss before Legolas pulled away from her and joined the rest of the Fellowship.


	9. Cenedril

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
_Chapter Eight – Cenedril

"_Anariel,"_

The path of dreams faded away dimly at the sound of his voice. Anariel sighed contentedly as the comfort of the mattress and sheets came into her awareness… and she could feel his breath on the back of her neck and the warmth of his body behind her. Smiling, she opened her eyes and turned over to greet her husband.

But Legolas was not there.

The elleth stared at the empty sheets for a moment. She reached over and touched the un-slept in side of the bed and sighed to find it cold.

It had been two months and a handful of days since her husband left with the Fellowship. It was easy to bear at first; they would seek each other out on the paths of dreams when their minds were less occupied. But as time wore on, it was harder and harder for her to commune with Legolas. Something had happened to cause him deep grief, she could sense, but whether he was too far away or shielding it from her was beyond her ability to decide.

But he had been reaching out to her, she thought… his voice had been so clear.

Anariel rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling above her bed as she began to take a mental inventory of her loved ones with her fëa, a technique she was learning to use better under Lord Elrond's tutelage. Legolas' presence came to her first as it was her strongest bond. He seemed to be relatively at rest in body, but occupied in mind. Her father came next; troubled and weary, and then her mother; much the same as Alagos, but Anariel could also sense fear.

"An ill omen," Anariel said softly as she frowned. Something was afoot in the Woodland Realm.

A bird called out in the distance, alerting the elleth to the time. She glanced through the open windows to see the rays of the sun beginning to dance over the freshly-fallen snow. Resigning herself to the fact that there was nothing she could do to help her parents in her present position, Anariel rose to greet the day and attend to her duties in Lord Elrond's healing houses.

When she arrived she found the Lord of Imladris with the hobbit, Bilbo, who was perched upon a stool with his trousers drawn up over his knees. The hobbit was reciting a bit of his poetry as Anariel approached. When Bilbo caught sight of her, he waved slowly but enthusiastically to greet her.

"Ah, the Lady Anariel," Elrond said, turning to face her.

"_Princess_ of the Woodland Realm," Bilbo chimed in with a wink, still taking in great pride in his matchmaking skills.

"At your service," Anariel greeted with a laugh and a curtsy.

"Good morning!" Bilbo said. The elleth smiled at him and tried to hide the pity she knew must have been showing on her face. The hobbit was much changed since she first encountered him – his hair had blanched and his skin had wrinkled over. His once spry joints now creaked and ached. He was aging – a condition which the elleth did not fully understand.

"Today, we are going to assist Master Bilbo with the aches in his knees," Elrond announced.

"They're quite troublesome, you know," the hobbit added. With a paternal smile, Elrond acknowledged his comment and motioned to the fireplace on the opposite side of the room. Anariel saw a shelf wrought of iron above the fire upon which small stones were set.

"There I have placed some stones to warm. The pain our friend here feels is from his bones grinding together and causing the muscles around his knees to tighten. By applying heat, we may relieve some of the discomfort."

Anariel nodded and fetched one of the towels that was laid out on the mantle and retrieved one of the stones. Elrond took it from her and then allowed Bilbo to touch it to test its warmth against his skin. When the hobbit decided it was a good temperature, the Peredhel began to gently massage the area around Bilbo's knee with it. He then instructed Anariel to fetch another, and then asked her to repeat his technique on the hobbit's other knee.

"Now, we will also provide you with this, Master Hobbit," Elrond said, holding out a corked vial of golden liquid. "It is a mixture of several different oils," he said as he turned to Anariel to address her, "one part juniper, two parts lemon, and two parts chamomile. These oils aid in smoothing the joints, drink once in the morning and once at night, or else as needed."

Bilbo nodded and took a sip of the concoction.

"That's odd stuff there, Lord Elrond," Bilbo said, making a face.

"You know the saying, old friend," Elrond replied, placing a gentle hand on the hobbit's shoulder.

"Yes, yes, I know. The worse off it tastes the better it heals," the hobbit grumbled.

"Now I will show Lady Anariel to mix your medicine and let you return to your writing. Should I call for another of the healers to assist you?" Elrond asked.

"I think not, those stones did a lovely job! I could skip back to my room if I desired!"

Elrond laughed and helped Bilbo off of his seat. As the Lord of Imladris showed Bilbo out, Anariel turned to the cupboard to assemble the list of ingredients her tutor had rattled off moments before. She was taking a glass jar of juniper oil from the shelf when an odd chill descended upon her. And, suddenly, it was as if a strong wind blew through the room and stole all the air from her lungs. Anariel gasped and stumbled back from the cupboard.

The sound of glass shattering brought her back to her senses. She realized that the jar of oil had slipped from her hands and landed on the floor, breaking into what appeared to be hundreds of tiny pieces scattered about the oil, which was now creeping over the flagstones of the floor. Anariel hurriedly fetched a towel from the nearby counter and knelt on the ground to soak up the spill, but found her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Somehow, without her realizing it, Lord Elrond was kneeling before her. He gathered her hands in his. She met his eyes in alarm, but he stared at her steadily, as if making a diagnosis. After a moment, he spoke.

"What do you feel?" He asked her.

Anariel thought for a moment, still recovering from her spell. Finally, an answer came.

"As though I have lost something – something important – but I do not know what it is," she replied.

Elrond did not reply, but continued to watch her expectantly.

Anariel set her mind on her family again; Legolas, her father, her …

"My mother," she gasped as fear suddenly seized her, "something has happened to her."

Something – a fierceness she had never before seen – flashed in Elrond's eyes the second before he sprang into action. He helped her to her feet and began to usher her out of the room.

"Come," he said, guiding her to a waiting area with couches and chairs, "I shall send for Arwen to be with you; I must send scouts to see what is about in Mirkwood."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Legolas stared upon Mithrandir in complete awe and shock. Certainly, death was not unknown to the Prince of Mirkwood, but Mithrandir's fall into shadow was almost unbearably difficult. Legolas had always carried a hole in his heart for his mother, but the firsthand experience of witnessing the death of one dear to him was like an amputation.

The Fellowship's stay in Lothlorien had been a comfort; not only in body but in mind. There, Legolas was able to sequester his grief and seek out Anariel in his mind more freely. But when they had departed from the Golden Wood, and lost Boromir and the Hobbits, Legolas found it increasingly more difficult to bear up under the growing casualties of their mission.

The only thought that urged him onward was the thought that at the end of his journey was a safe Middle Earth and a good home for him and Anariel.

The Maia's resurrection was like an explosion of hope within Legolas, drowning the world in light even in the darkest reaches of Fangorn Forest where they were presently listening to Gandalf's story of how he came to defeat the Balrog and return to them clothed in White.

The Istar turned and looked at Legolas after giving Galadriel's message to Aragorn. Legolas was slightly unsettled by the keenness of Mithrandir's glance as he spoke.

_"To Legolas she sent this word:_

_Legolas Greenleaf long under tree  
In joy thou hast lived, Beware of the Sea!  
If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore,  
Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more_."

Legolas blinked, but when he reopened his eyes he was in a different place and time. He was standing on a pier in a thick mist. Before him he could see Anariel dressed in a grey cloak, standing on a boat that was floating away from him. Her usually bright eyes were dim and unfixed. She seemed but a shell of her usual, vibrant self. The mist closed in around her, and as she disappeared, Legolas felt compelled to reach out and call her name.

Gimli's voice brought him back to the present, and what he had Seen faded away until Gandalf once again stood before them.

_"Then she sent me no message?"_ Gimli asked.

Legolas looked at his disappointed friend. _"Dark are her words,"_ he said, _"and little do they mean to those that receive them."_

_"That is no comfort,"_ Gimli replied, not looking up at Legolas. A twinge of anger nagged at the elf, jealous of the dwarf's happy ignorance of what may be coming to his loved ones.

_"What then,"_ he said, irritated, _"would you have her speak openly to you of your death?"_

_"Yes, if she had naught else to say."_ Gimli replied.

"_What is that?" _Piped Gandalf, _"Yes, I think I can guess what her words may mean. Your pardon, Gimli! I was pondering the messages once again. But indeed she sent words to you, and neither dark nor sad."_

Legolas listened ruefully to Galadriel's words for Gimli, which were just as puzzling as the messages Gandalf bore for Aragorn and himself, but decidedly just as Gandalf had described them: neither dark nor sad. Aragorn looked over at Legolas and the pair exchanged dark glances as Gandalf began to lead the way down the bank of the Entwash to leave Fangorn.

The prince pondered Galadriel's message again as he fell into line behind Aragorn and Mithrandir, staring at his boots as they walked over the spongy forest floor.

"_If thou hearest the cry of the gull on the shore, Thy heart shall then rest in the forest no more."_

Legolas felt a lead weight settle in his stomach. Even without a vision, Galadriel's words very clearly spoke of Anariel. He felt his mind race over hundreds of thoughts and fears; mutely panicking over his inability to fly back to Imladris to see to her safety. He suddenly remembered Galadriel's words to Aragorn:

"_But dark is the path appointed for thee: The Dead watch the road that leads to the sea."_

It seemed obvious to Legolas then that his and Aragorn's warnings were linked. If he followed Aragorn, something would befall his wife. As that reality began to permeate his thoughts, he realized an impossible choice was before him. Aragorn and Gimli had become brothers to Legolas, strange though it may be for an elf to consider a man – or even a dwarf, for that matter – his brother. He had often heard his blood-brothers, Arthion and Hérion, tell him that those with whom one served in battle were as family to one another, and Legolas had never really understood what they had meant until now. The thought of leaving Aragorn, who had taught and shown him so much of the world, to achieve the throne of Gondor and throw over the armies of Sauron was heart-rending to Legolas. And Gimli, who was in a very strange way like a younger sibling Legolas had never had; impatient, passionate, and in constant need of looking after. How could he leave either of them?

They were nearing the edge of Fangorn now. No one had spoken nor seemed inclined to do so before they exited the forest, so Legolas let his mind slip away and reach out to Anariel.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel was sitting with Arwen, still near the healing rooms of Imladris when Legolas' presence came to her. The force and urgency with which he sought her out surprised her and she let out a small gasp.

Arwen put a hand on her shoulder. "What is it?" She asked.

"Legolas," Anariel whispered as she closed her eyes in concentration. She could feel her husband first performing an assessment of her fëa. Try as she might, she could not hide her grief, and she could feel his bubbling questions in her mind.

The truth of Anariel's grief was that she could no longer feel her mother's presence anywhere. Naerdiel was dead. Why or how, Anariel was unsure; her father was shielding his thoughts from his daughter, seemingly because he was caught in battle, but he knew also that his wife had perished. Elrond had sent out riders to see what might be seen of Mirkwood, but Anariel could already sense that war had come to her homeland.

However, Anariel would not let Legolas into her mind where her sadness was housed. She deflected his questions and instead searched his fëa for damage. She could sense that he was troubled and had little time to be with her.

"What does he say?" Arwen asked gently.

"He … he seeks my permission to leave the others," Anariel replied, Legolas' thoughts falling out of her mouth, "he thinks something is about to happen to me."

She could feel Arwen's gaze heavily upon her, but the Mirkwood elleth did not open her eyes. She concentrated on her bond with Legolas. The conflict within him was deeper than the valleys of the Misty Mountains. Anariel, though she desperately wanted the comfort of knowing he was safe and the feeling of his arms around her, could not bring herself to ask him to return. She felt in her heart that he had been appointed to the task before him. She exhaled deeply, her answer flowing out of her mind.

_I am well_, she insisted, _I will be fine, and I will endure for you_.

Leagues away, just steps inside Fangorn Forest, Anariel's words came to Legolas with such strength and determination that he nearly stepped backward into Gimli. Knowing that there was very little time before his full attention would be required for the road ahead, he reached out to her once more.

_And I will endure for you, my love._

* * *

**NOTES:**

1._ Cenedril_ means "Sight."

2. The italicized dialogue between Gandalf, Legolas, and Gimli was all taken from The Two Towers, Chapter Five, The White Rider.

3. Just a note on what's going on in Mirkwood. From Appendix B of The Return of the King:

"_In the North there had also been war and evil. The realm of Thranduil was invaded, and there was a long battle under the trees and great ruin of fire…"_

Tolkien never really says how long this war and evil had been going on, and doesn't specify a beginning date for this engagement. That is, if Tolkien ever said more about it I have yet to read it (which is entirely possible! I cannot claim to have all of his works memorized … sadly).

His comment about Thranduil's realm comes from a larger section about what had been going on in the northern theater of war, along with the assaults on Erebor and Lorien. We do know from Appendix B the assault on Lorien begins on March 11, TA 3019, which more than a week from the goings-on of this chapter. I wrote under the assumption that war upon the elves in the Woodland Realm began earlier than it did in Lorien.


	10. Guruthos

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar_  
Chapter Nine – Guruthos

It was early March when the throbbing ache of her mother's death began to fade into a dull, but still ever-present pain. Anariel knew that someday, when she learned what had happened, it would get easier. She knew from Lord Elrond's scouts that fires could be seen burning in Mirkwood; most likely there had been battles with civilian casualties. Anariel wondered who else would be missing when she returned home; _if_ she ever returned home.

As expected, a company of elves with ties to the Elvenking's realm had ridden out from Rivendell after receiving news of the forest burning. Anariel had desperately wanted to return with them, and was prepared to tag along behind as she'd done out of the Woodland Realm the first time. Eregdos, one of the warriors who had come with them to Imladris, found her in her chambers the morning they were to ride out. He'd discovered her throwing things in her saddlebag, and was less than pleased.

"I know what you plan, my lady," he had said, a grim expression on his face. Anariel only stared defiantly. "You cannot come with us."

"I cannot see why," Anariel had replied frankly.

"I swear to you, I would gladly have you come with us if circumstances were at all different. But forgive me for my forwardness, you are not the same as you were when you stole out of our homeland last autumn."

"Oh?"

With exasperation, Eregdos took her hand and pointed at her wedding band. "_This_ makes you different," he explained. "The return trip will be more treacherous. I and the others like me are bound by duty to protect the Elvenking's kin _at all costs_. This now includes you."

"I can keep watch for myself," Anariel protested, though she knew Eregdos had a point.

"My lady, no, you cannot," he said a little more forcefully. "A healer you may be, but you are not trained in battle as the rest of us. One of us would always have to keep watch on you, at the risk to ourselves and others. I beg of you, my lady, consider this before riding out in secret."

To that sobering thought, Anariel could not think of an immediate reply. A faint smile appeared on Eregdos' face, and he kissed her hand.

"Whatever happens, Lady Anariel, I wish you peace and joy. I do not know what the future holds, but I swear to you I will fight twice as hard to protect our homeland. For you, and for Prince Legolas," he said. Anariel thanked him, wished him safety, and then watched as he left.

Not much later that day, she joined Lord Elrond in the courtyard to wish the Mirkwood elves goodbye, having elected to stay behind. Ever since then, a deep and dark shadow had been growing in her mind. She had taken to keeping occupied so as to prevent herself from dwelling on shadow. On this morning in particular, she was organizing herbs in the Houses of Healing, but it was hard not to notice the way her loved ones had completely pulled away from her.

Her father had completely cut his feelings off from her – she could only sense that he was about and relatively well. It grieved her that she could not be with him to ease the pain of his wife's death.

Similarly, Legolas was difficult to reach. Occasionally she could feel him thinking of her and she would reach out, but he would not share his troubles with her. She could sense there were many, however well he sequestered them away.

Anariel grimaced as she organized the cupboards where healing herbs were stored. For one who was accustomed to fixing hurts, being thwarted in her efforts amongst her loved ones was sewing bitter seeds in her mind.

A commotion coming from the courtyard interrupted her brooding. The day had been so quiet that any noise at all completely shattered the calm atmosphere of the Last Homely House, so the elleth first disregarded it. As the ruckus continued she sensed that there was trouble afoot. She paused and listened closely.

"We need a healer!" She heard someone cry. Immediately, Anariel abandoned her herb jars and picked up her skirts in a sprint for the courtyard. Her boots slapped on the stone tiles of Imladris' walkways loudly as she ran and she noticed that the elves she passed stared at her as she ran by, but she paid them no heed. Something didn't feel right.

"I need help!" Another shout came – the voice sounded like Lord Glorfindel's. Anariel grabbed a hold of a pillar and swung around the last corner. Her stomach nearly dropped out under her when she looked upon the scene.

Glorfindel and several other elves returning from patrols were there; with them was one other elf dressed in the garb of the Sindar, being aided by Glorfindel off one of the horses. The elf had multiple wounds that were visible to her eyes – many arrows pierced his leather jerkin. His dark-haired head lolled backwards and instantly Anariel recognized him.

"ADAR!" She shouted, rushing forward. Glorfindel's head whipped around to see her and his eyes flashed.

"What?" He asked. Anariel paid him no heed as she rushed forward to help steady her father.

Alagos' eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. His eyes were clouded and seemed to have difficulty focusing. Anariel took his face in her hands, disregarding the icy quality of his skin, and tried to hold his gaze.

"Anariel…?"

"Adar, I am here," she assured him.

"You must tell Lord Elrond… The Dark Lord… Lorien…" Alagos strained to finish his thought as a spasm of pain seemed to take him. He closed his eyes tightly, gritting his teeth and breathed sharply out of his nose as Glorfindel took one of Alagos' arms and set it over his shoulder. Anariel did the same and began to carry him back to the Houses of Healing. Anariel looked at Glorfindel for answers.

"He was more cognizant when we found him," Glorfindel obliged, "He told us that he was member to a party sent out by the Elvenking to warn us of the attacks on Mirkwood and ask for help; they were set upon by Orcs in the mountains, and he is the sole survivor. He is your father?"

"Yes."

Glorfindel looked at her gravely, but said no more.

"I must know, how long have these wounds been here?" Anariel asked. Glorfindel opened his mouth as if to speak, but hesitated. "Lord Glorfindel, if I am going to tend to these wounds I need to know how long they have been there."

"My Lady, there are many healers about; you certainly should not have to endure the pain of – "

"How long, Lord Glorfindel?"

In the back of her mind, Anariel knew that she had probably crossed some line of propriety by snapping at Glorfindel but could not muster the energy to care. She stared daggers at him as they rounded the last corner and went down the corridor to their destination. He glanced at her once and set his jaw. Finally, after a few steps of silence, he spoke again.

"He said the Orcs came upon them in the mountains two nights past."

Anariel's head swam. She had much experience with Orcish wounds. Their swords, arrows, and spears were almost always tipped with poison, which if it was not extracted from a wound immediately would mean certain death. It was a miracle that her father had survived a day and a half without treatment. She put her hand to Alagos' forehead – it was on fire.

The moment they entered the Healing Houses, Anariel shouted orders at the other Healers she knew would be present:

"Someone, please! Fetch Lord Elrond! This elf is badly wounded! Hurry!"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The noon sun was shining down on the Hornburg, bringing into relief the stunning damage the Rohirric stronghold had endured not long before that day. Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Merry, along with the Rohirrim and Dúnedain had arrived in the wee small hours of the morning. Gimli and the hobbit had promptly fallen asleep with Legolas, who needed no rest, watching over them.

Gimli rose at mid-morning and the two of them broke their fast in companionable silence, allowing Merry to take some much-needed rest. But with their departure bearing down upon them, it became necessary to rouse the poor halfling from his slumber. Legolas leaned over the hobbit and shook him gently.

"_The Sun is high. All others are up and doing,"_ Legolas said. Merry stirred and groaned as he opened one eye to look at the elven prince with suspicion. Legolas chuckled and patted the hobbit on the shoulder with a little more force. _"Come, Master Sluggard, and look at this place while you may!"_ He said playfully into Merry's ear.

"_There was a battle here three nights ago, and here Legolas and I played a game that I won only by a single orc. Come and see how it was! And there are caves, Merry, caves of wonder! Shall we visit them, Legolas, do you think?"_ Gimli added.

Legolas smiled and shook his head at being reminded – again – that he had lost the orc-slaying competition, and at Gimli's impatient, burning desire to see the Glittering Caves once more. He did not think he would ever get over how like children both Merry and Gimli were to him, even though they were adults by the measure of their own people. Sometimes, being with them was much like caring for his nephew. A twinge of concern for his family suddenly nagged at the elf, but he pushed the thought away.

"_Nay! There is no time. Do not spoil the wonder with haste! I have given you my word to return hither with you, if a day of peace and freedom comes again. But it is now near noon, and at that hour we eat and set out again, I hear,"_ Legolas replied to Gimli.

Merry was now sitting up, stretching and yawing. He stood and looked around. "_Where_ _is Aragorn?"_ The hobbit asked.

"_In the high chamber of the Burg. He has neither rested nor slept, I think," _Legolas replied, casting his gaze up towards the chamber and frowning, _"He went thither some hours ago, saying that he must take thought, and only his kinsman, Halbarad, went with him; but some dark doubt or care sits on him."_

"_They are a strange company, these newcomers. Stout men and lordly they are, and the Riders of Rohan look almost as boys beside them; for they are grim men of face, worn like weathered rocks for the most part, even as Aragorn himself; and they are silent,"_ said Gimli as he watched a few of the Dúnedain trudge past them.

"_But even as Aragorn they are courteous, if they break their silence,"_ Legolas replied, _"and have you marked the brethren Elladan and Elrohir? Less somber is their gear than the others', and they are fair and gallant as Eleven-lords; and that is not to be wondered at in the sons of Elrond of Rivendell."_

"_Why have they come, have you heard?"_ Merry asked as he tied his cloak over his shoulders. Legolas motioned for them to follow as he walked down towards the gate of the Burg which stood in crumbling ruins.

"_They answered a summons, as you heard,"_ Gimli replied as he walked gingerly around the rocks littering their path, "_word came to Rivendell, they say: _Aragorn has need of his kindred. Let the Dúnedain ride to him in Rohan!_ But whence this message came they are now in doubt. Gandalf sent it, I would guess."_

"_Nay,"_ Legolas said, not looking up from the path, _"Galadriel. Did she not speak through Gandalf of the ride of the Grey Company from the North?"_

"_Yes, you have it, the Lady of the Wood!"_ Gimli exclaimed with the excitement of a child, _"She read many hearts and desires. Now why did we not wish for some of our own kinsfolk, Legolas?"_ The dwarf lamented as they approached the gate.

Legolas considered this for a moment as he looked northeast. His keen eyes could spy only faintly the dark cloud over the southern end of Mirkwood where Dol Goldur loomed menacingly above the tree line. He thought he could also see smoke in the distance, but the sky was so dark it was difficult to tell the difference between cloud and ash. In his heart and mind he sensed the troubles of all of his family; his father and brothers ceaselessly toiled to defend their home, he knew, and even Anariel in Rivendell he could sense was afflicted. He sighed with longing, wishing he could aid his loved ones.

"_I do not think any would come,"_ he said in a voice quiet and sad. _"They have no need to ride to war; war already marches on their own lands."_

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel toiled over her father all day and into the night; well longer than the other Healers thought was medically necessary. His wounds were cleaned and bandaged, and they had done all they could do for the poison in his blood, but still his fever raged. Quietly, Elrond dismissed the other Healers and lingered nearby to help if the elleth were in need – but she did not ask him for it. He knew that if this were any other patient, Anariel would have stopped trying hours ago and made him as comfortable as possible. Alagos was dying. Elrond knew this, but Anariel was not going to be ready for it.

The elleth was facing away from her father's bed, wringing out a towel to place on her father's forehead for his fever when she heard a weak cough. She turned and saw her father, blinking into wakefulness. Smiling, she walked over to his bedside.

"Ada," She greeted him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Alagos slowly turned to face her fully and furrowed his brow, trying to recall where he was.

"Daughter?" He asked.

"Yes, I am here," she said in a quiet, gentle voice. She dabbed her father's forehead with the damp towel.

"Your mother – " Alagos started, but could not finish. He closed his eyes and grimaced painfully. Tears suddenly appeared from under his closed eyelids and made their way over his cheeks.

Anariel found her own vision blurry. She blinked and nodded.

"I know," she managed to whisper, surprised by how easily she was swept away by her own sadness.

Alagos opened his eyes again and gazed upon his daughter. "Your mother was… tending to some of the wounded, away from the Elvenking's halls… there have been many attacks in the past weeks," he explained.

"Shh, Ada. Rest," Anariel admonished him. She abandoned the damp towel and took one of Alagos' hands, but he shook his head and continued, trying his best to hold Anariel's gaze.

"I understand… they were attacked, and there was a fire," he paused to swallow as his voice began to break, "and she perished… I was not there."

More tears spilled over Alagos' cheeks and he spoke no more. Anariel's heart broke for her father and her mother.

"Ada," she whispered as she brushed some stray hair from his face and kissed his brow. Silence fell between them. Anariel closed her eyes and tried to cover Alagos' fëa in her own, but it seemed so tattered, she did not know where to start. Distressed, Anariel looked up and about the room to see if Lord Elrond was near. When she could not see him, she began to pull away, but Alagos squeezed her hand and held her there.

"I am so happy for you, my daughter," he said quietly as he tapped the wedding band on her finger. Anariel blushed.

"I am sorry we could not wait, we – "

"I know, dear one. For that reason we gave our blessing," Alagos replied, smiling at her.

Anariel smiled and opened her mouth as if she was about to reply, but suddenly her father broke into a coughing fit. She turned to a nearby table to fetch water. When she turned back, she saw that he was wiping blood away from his face and her heart dropped into her stomach. The poison from the Orc's arrows had been there too long. It had done irreparable damage.

Lord Elrond entered the room when he heard Alagos' coughing and assessed the situation from the doorway. Anariel, sensing his presence, turned to him.

"We must do something, the poison, it is - "

"Anariel, no," her father managed between rasping breaths. Forgetting Elrond, the elleth turned back to her father and leaned close to him.

"Ada, please," Anariel ran a finger across his cheek. His sparse breaths puffed on her face as he attempted to smile at her. He reached up with his free hand and she took it in her own, gripping tightly.

"I am sorry, my daughter," he said between labored breaths. "I trust... I trust that the Prince will care for you well."

"He will, and he will look forward to being harassed by his father-in-law for years to come," she said, flashing a hopeful smile at her father. The elleth could hear her heart beating in her ears and she was shaking. She could not lose her father. Not now. Not like this.

"Anariel, I love you, and I am sorry… Please, do not be sad," he said.

"Ada, you mustn't," the tears that had been threatening to spill from her eyes broke free and ran down her cheeks. The knuckles on her hand were white as she held tightly onto her father's cold hand, as if she could somehow keep his soul there by not letting go.

"I love you."

The words escaped his mouth slowly and quietly and his hand became limp in Anariel's grasp. Alagos' eyes closed and Anariel noticed he did not breathe again.

"Ada?" Anariel asked at first, timidly with a quavering voice. "Ada?" She asked again, giving him a shake. Reality descended upon her in an icy curtain. She felt all of the light in her world extinguish, and a vast loneliness grow like a chasm in her soul. She sank to her knees next to her father's bed and began to cry quietly into the sheets.

Elrond, who had lingered in the corner of the room, stepped forward and put his hand on her shoulder. She could feel healing in his touch, and tried her best to accept it. Whether or not she succeeded, Anariel wasn't sure. Everything in her world was loud and spinning and painful – even as she sat in the total silence of the Healing Houses. She could comprehend nothing.

Somehow, Legolas' call broke through the mire of her mind, but she could not let him in fully. She allowed him to support her, but she could not acknowledge to him all that had transpired. Her grief was too great. To concede to her husband what had happened would make it real.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The stars were high in the sky and the only sound to be heard was the pounding of horses' hooves as the Grey Company rode across Rohan on their way to Edoras. Legolas, with Gimli behind him in the saddle, was at the head of the column of the Dúnedain with Aragorn, Elrond's sons, and Halbarad when he suddenly was overcome. It was as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. A deep despair came over him and he squeezed his eyes shut. He opened them again, surprised by the sensation of tears falling over his cheeks. He lurched forward towards his horse's neck and clutched at his jerkin over his heart, letting out a soft cry as the reins became slack his hands.

"Legolas!" Gimli barked, holding tight to the elf so he did not fall. Arod whinnied and tossed his head in, bringing Legolas' attention back to the present. Despite the pounding in his ears, Legolas took a deep breath and grabbed the reins once more as he whispered calming words to their steed and urged him onward. His sudden episode has caused them to fall behind Aragorn, who was at that moment looking the elf up and down for signs of injury.

"Legolas," he called, "what ails you?"

The elf shook his head and waved a hand to dismiss him as he spoke, "I am unharmed." Aragorn regarded him severely and slowed his own steed as if to take a better inventory of his friend. "Truly, Aragorn, we must not halt. Do not concern yourself over me," Legolas assured him.

"Has something happened?" The man asked.

Legolas breathed deeply and a deep turmoil that was not his own seized his heart. It was coming from Anariel.

"Yes," was all he could manage. Aragorn was silent, but continued to look Legolas up and down. He appeared to be considering whether or not to stop. "Peace, Aragorn. It will pass," he said, "do not worry."

"We should be at Edoras by mid-day," Aragorn said, "we shall speak of it then, if you wish."

Legolas managed to nod and force a smile at Aragorn, who hesitantly returned his attention to the road ahead.

"Legolas," Gimli said his name in a warning voice.

"Truly, friend, I shall be well," he replied, though his heart felt as though it was in a vice.

A gruff "harrumph" from the dwarf was his only reply. Silence fell over them and Legolas felt the darkness close in around him and the air thick with despair as he had never felt before. He could feel his wife's desolation palpably, as though she was standing right next to him.

"Gimli," he said.

"Aye, laddie?"

"I shall be silent for some time, and may not respond at first call…" Legolas paused, finding himself strangely ashamed for asking for help, "Keep watch for me?"

Gimli patted Legolas on the shoulder. "Aye, I can do that."

"Thank you, friend," he said softly.

Immediately, Legolas reached out over his bond with Anariel. At first she would not respond. Trying to reach her felt like beating his way through thick woods in a windstorm, and the pain he felt from her reminded him starkly of his own grief over the death of his mother. He cried out her name loudly in his mind, and finally he caught her attention. She would not tell him what afflicted her, or she could not, but she allowed him to linger on the edges of her turmoil soothing her where he could. Legolas could not recall a time when he'd felt more useless than that night, riding across the plains of Rohan while his loved ones suffered without him.

* * *

**NOTES:**

1. "_Guruthos_" means "death's shadow" in Sindarin.

2. The italicized dialogue between Legolas, Gimli, and Merry comes from The Return of the King, Chapter II, The Passing of the Grey Company.


	11. An I Aear

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar_  
Chapter Ten – An I Aear

Legolas sat upon the bedroll laid out for him in the booth where Gimli, Aragorn, and he were to spend the night in Edoras. He was working diligently to add fletching to the new arrows he made while Gimli snored loudly in the opposite corner. It would never cease to amaze Legolas how anyone else gained rest when the dwarf slept. His snores could easily wake the dead. In fact, it was downright astonishing that Éowyn and Aragorn could hold a conversation just outside the door – not to mention that Legolas could catch any of it.

Disregarding Gimli's snores and Aragorn's conversation with the Lady of Rohan as best he could, the elf turned his full attention upon his unfinished arrows. Constructing arrows was always a pleasant pastime for the Prince of Mirkwood. The process required thought and precision, yet it was done easily enough that he could work and clear his mind of excess thoughts at the same time. It evoked fond memories of his childhood – of his older brothers teaching him how to care for his bow and to make new arrows. Briefly, he wondered about his family. He hoped his father, brothers, sister-in-law and niece and nephew were well.

And Anariel… he could no longer reach her through the fog of her grief. Legolas sighed and frowned.

A loud snort from Gimli jarred the elf out of what was sure to be a descent into deep anxiety. He turned to see the dwarf nearly launch himself out of bed, gripping the axe at his bedside.

"Where are they?" Gimli demanded, "Orcs! I heard them!"

"Peace, friend," Legolas chuckled softly, "The only unholy noise this night is that of your slumber."

Gimli grimaced. "Dwarves do not snore."

Legolas could not contain the sardonic snort that escaped his nose. "If you insist, Gimli," he said, smiling. The dwarf glared at him for a moment more before grumbling and once again lying down to sleep. It was not long before he was snoring away again, eliciting a chuckle from Legolas as he continued about the fletching on his arrows.

He had a few more moments to himself before Aragorn strode into the tent, obviously frustrated. The Dúnedan said nothing as he flopped down on his bedroll and made a frustrated sigh. He stared up at the ceiling for a time.

"She will forgive you, Aragorn," Legolas said, not lifting his eyes from his fletching.

"Did your father not tell you it is rude to eavesdrop?" Aragorn said, a chuckle in his voice as he turned to look at Legolas.

"Worry not. I had guessed Lady Éowyn's desires before she came to you; and even for an elf it is difficult to hear over this ruckus," said Legolas, motioning towards Gimli.

"Then I am comforted," the ranger replied, a small bit of humor still in his voice.

Legolas said nothing as he continued his work and Aragorn sat watching him. The elf could sense his friend's eyes on him, but did not acknowledge him. He had purposely avoided speaking with Aragorn for anything other than "official business." Ever since his episode the night before, both Gimli and Aragorn had seemed on tenterhooks around him, trying to coax him to speak. Legolas, while he appreciated their concern, found the overwhelming sense of wrongness too difficult to confront in his mind, much less discuss at all.

"What troubles you?" Aragorn finally asked.

Legolas cast a casual glance at the Ranger, but turned back to his arrows before replying, "I am not troubled."

Aragorn let out an exasperated sigh. "My friend…"

"Truly," Legolas interrupted him, "I am well."

"Come, Legolas. We are friends, secrets do not become us," Aragorn said.

Legolas fiddled with the fletching of his new arrow a little more and then set it down on the ground. He knew Aragon was right. He sat in thoughtful silence a little while longer, not making eye contact with the Heir of Isildur, who he knew was still staring at him.

Aragorn sighed and was about to give up when suddenly the Prince of Mirkwood spoke.

"Something has happened to Anariel," he said quietly, slow to meet Aragorn's glance.

The ranger said nothing, but continued to look at his friend, now with concern, waiting for him to continue.

"She will not… or cannot share it with me. I cannot reach her, the grief is too deep and her mind too clouded," said Legolas, looking away towards the West.

"Legolas, go to her," Aragorn urged. "I do not ask you to come with me on the path I must take. Go to Imladris. See to your wife."

The Elven prince turned back and stared at Aragorn, alarmed at the suggestion. "It would be faithless of me to turn back now, my friend," he said, unable to hide how affronted he was.

"No oath has bound you to this quest, Legolas. My road takes me to the Sea."

Legolas sighed. The Lady's warning about the gull's cry rang in his ears and had been gnawing away at his fears since Aragorn announced that there was an attack coming to Gondor from the South. Aware of the Lady's warning to them both regarding the Sea, Aragorn had already guessed Legolas' concerns: something irrevocable would happen between Anariel and Legolas should he hear the gull's cry.

Galadriel's words the elven prince were like knives poised above his heart. But he had said he would go with Aragorn. He could never break his word, not now, when he had seen the full extent of what the Dark Lord was capable of reaping upon Middle Earth. When he had taken on this quest, it had been to help secure a safer future for himself, his family, and Anariel in Mirkwood. He now understood that more was at stake. If he were the same elf that had departed with the Fellowship in midwinter, he might have fled back to Imladris that second. But his experiences had changed him deeply. He knew there was no going back.

"I know I have taken no oath," Legolas began, "But I cannot turn back now. I have seen the full might of Sauron's appetite for death and destruction upon these lands. I cannot wait idly by for others to fight when I know I am needed here. We must all sacrifice in war, and I am no exception."

"Legolas - "

"Besides," the Mirkwood Prince interrupted Aragorn and smiled ruefully, "Anariel would never forgive me if I turned back now."

A smile pulled at Aragorn's lips, but he said nothing. In his eyes, Legolas could still see concern swirling. But the prince's mind was made up. His will was set.

"I will fight with you Aragorn, to whatever end," said Legolas.

"Then I shall be honored to have you by my side." Isildur's heir replied.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel was sure she'd gone mad. There was no other way to describe the way she felt – her thoughts had been nothing but frenzied and wild since her father succumbed to his injuries. The elleth's heart told her that she needed company, but when she was around any of the new friends she had made whilst in Imladris, she found no pleasure. How she longed for Legolas. She wished dearly to hear his voice whispering to her that everything would soon be right. She longed to feel his arms around her pressing her to him, to breathe in his scent, to feel his warmth. But she would not impose her burden upon him – not when he was on a collision course with what was sure to be a battle for all time. She could not distract him. She could not face the possibility of losing him, too.

So she sequestered her grief, and it consumed her.

The elleth listened to the sounds of the woods around her room as she paced the floor – birds chirping and the nearby waterfalls cascading down the mountains. They were such happy sounds, but she could find no happiness in them at all. Still, she was drawn to them. She walked over to the doorway that exited to the courtyard and peered out. It was cloudy, which was no surprise. It had been growing darker and darker each day since the Fellowship set out for Mordor. Sauron was now reaching far from his lair behind the Black Gate. His servants in Dol Guldur, Mirkwood, had by now besieged the Elvenking's halls and Lorien. But while Lord Elrond's ring of power protected it, Imladris was unaffected.

Anariel ventured out of her chamber and into the open air. She thought about little as she wandered around the Last Homely House, her mind was still mostly full of frenzied, unorganized thoughts. Eventually she arrived at the edge of a bluff where there was a waterfall flowing down the side. She walked over to the stream that flowed away from it, looking up in queer fascination, as if she'd never seen a waterfall before. Briefly, she wondered what it would be like to stand under the crashing water – if I would feel any more intense that the grief she felt.

Impetuously, she stepped out onto a stone in the stream and balanced upon it before taking another step forward into the cold water. She cried out when the water hit her head and shoulders, it was heavy and freezing. It crossed her mind that as an elf, she should not be as affected by the water's temperature as she was, but she disregarded the notion. Though the water crashing over her was breathtaking, it was nothing compared to her feelings. Anariel ran her hands over her face and in her hair in frustration, feeling tears gathering behind her eyes again.

She heard someone shouting in the distance and turned around. Through the blurring effect of the water, she could see someone running toward her. He had golden hair. A flicker of hope caused her heart to beat faster.

"Legolas?!" She called to him and was rewarded with a mouthful of water. The elleth coughed and sputtered. Unable to breathe, she stepped forward out of the water and was caught by a pair of steady arms. She knew instantly he was not Legolas.

"Lady Anariel, are you mad?!" Glorfindel's voice cried as he helped her stand up straight.

"It is a distinct possibility," Anariel replied, strangely managing to laugh at the possibility.

The golden-haired elf looked at her with frustrated, yet still-sad eyes. "Come," he sighed, "we need to get you dry. Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you."

Sometime later when Anariel was dry and dressed, she made her way to Elrond's study where Glorfindel said she may find him. As she walked down the corridor to the elven lord's study she could hear voices.

"This may not work, daughter," Elrond's voice came.

"It must. She cannot tarry here any longer. She will not last," Arwen replied.

"I know. But she is Sindar," Arwen's father said. He sounded compliant, but unsure.

Anariel had reached the door, which was ajar. She was about to announce herself with a knock but Arwen caught sight of her first.

"Anariel, come in, please," she said with a sweet smile. Anariel was too alarmed by what she had overheard to return pleasantries.

"You wish to send me away."

It was more of a declaration than a question. Anariel could not work up the energy to be upset or to feel betrayed, though she thought she should be.

"Not in the way you think. Peace, Anariel. Sit," Elrond replied in a kind voice, motioning for her to take a chair. Anariel stared at him and wordlessly stood, not feeling inclined to sit at that moment. Elrond, understanding her quiet defiance, continued.

"You are fading," he said without preface.

Anariel opened her mouth to contradict him, but she couldn't think of any way to deny his claim.

"My friend, please, we're trying to help you," Arwen said gently. She walked over and put her hand on Anariel's shoulder. Anariel tried not to visibly notice when Undómiel flinched at her coldness.

"If you stay here, your fëa will eventually fade to nothing, and you will let yourself die," Elrond continued. Anariel looked at him hollowly. She had nothing to say. She knew of nowhere she could go to ease her suffering.

"I cannot," Anariel said softly, her voice shaking. Both Elrond and Arwen stared at her. "I made a promise, Lord Elrond. I promised him I would wait."

She was out of energy and unable to hold in her emotions. Tears formed in her eyes. Arwen was now behind her, hands on both of her shoulders holding her steady.

"You may keep your promise to Legolas," Lord Elrond replied, "but you must sail West."

Anariel stared at him in as much disbelief as she could muster. "You forget, my lord, that the Sindar do not take the ships at the Havens. He will never find me."

"He will find you," Arwen assured her quietly.

"What would cause a Sindar elf to sail West? Or a Silvan elf for that matter? You forget who we are, my friends, if you think that we will abandon the forest that is our home or our f-families," Anariel nearly laughed until she arrived at her last word, which produced more grief and tears. Arwen tried to soothe her friend's sorrow with quiet words of encouragement and Anariel was about to rebuke her when Elrond spoke again in an authoritative voice.

"I have Seen it."

Both elleth looked at him in surprise. Elrond's expression was dark, as if utter need had driven him to confess it. His grey eyes rested heavily upon Anariel, who was frozen in surprise.

"I cannot tell you the full extent of what I know, but he will join you in Valinor. He will sail, when his task is done," said Elrond.

Anariel knew that Lord Elrond would not lie or bend the truth, nor did he readily share his visions with anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. She watched him with cautious interest.

"You may desire to linger here and wait for him," Elrond continued slowly, "and it is possible that would be able to hold on until Legolas finished his tasks. But by the time he returns, your fëa would be so diminished that you may only be reunited for a day before you would at last fade, leaving Legolas behind."

The elleth inhaled sharply at the thought of Legolas enduring grief because of her. Would he hurt as deeply as she did now? She couldn't live with herself knowing that she might cause him to feel as she did.

Anariel met Elrond's eyes.

"When must I depart?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Six days later._

Legolas was deep in thought, mentally preparing himself for battle as the Grey Company came over the mountains and descended to the city of Pelargir. All in their company were silent. The Dead followed behind them, keeping all of the company on edge. Gimli was behind Legolas in the saddle again, muttering to himself about ghosts and ghouls, which Legolas found distracting… albeit, somewhat amusing. He looked behind him and opened his mouth as if to reply to his friend's mutterings.

But at that moment, Legolas heard a gull's cry.

The prince looked up and beyond to the river and saw white birds circling a harbor. In their voices, Legolas swore he could hear them calling out to the Sea beyond. Even though they had to be at least two miles away, their cries were so loud in his ears that Legolas thought they might be right beside him. He could then hear bits and pieces of Lady Galadriel's warning in his head.

The cacophony of gulls crying and words from Galadriel came to a crescendo in his ears and he shut his eyes to rid himself of some sense. But when he reopened them, again he saw Anariel in a grey cloak, drifting away from shore into the mists.

He blinked again, and the vision of Anariel was gone. All he could see was the river, which led to the Sea. Suddenly, he felt as though he should urge his horse on down the valley and downriver. He wanted to sail. He wanted to…

"Legolas! LEGOLAS! What are you doing, lad?!" Gimli's voice suddenly jarred him back to the real world. The elf became aware that his horse had stopped and they were now at the rear of the Company, and Death was close behind them. Gimli was fidgeting something fierce in the saddle, anxious to be ahead of the Dead once again. Ahead of them, Aragorn had noticed that his companions were no longer riding alongside him and he was looking back, a confused and concerned look on his face.

"I – I know not," Legolas replied to him breathlessly. He swallowed and gripped the reigns tightly in his hands again, nudging his horse onward. He was aware that Gimli was scolding him, but all he could turn his attention to was the river, and thoughts of sailing West.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Miles away, Anariel stood on the wharf before a fine grey ship. Being near to the Sea was overwhelming, and her heart felt lighter at the thought of sailing, as if her heart had always longed for the Sea. A few tendrils broke loose from her plaited hair in the salty breeze. She pulled them behind her ear while she gazed out upon the water longingly. Pulling her cloak closely around her shoulders, she thought about how much she wished her husband was there with her.

Legolas would have enjoyed the sight of the sun rising over the water, she thought. More tears formed in her eyes. Would he ever forgive her for leaving?

"Are you ready, my lady?"

Anariel turned to see Glorfindel standing behind her. He had taken her with all haste to the Havens, and was riding out from there to join the battle in Lorien, if he could make it in time. The elven lord looked at her with pity, and Anariel hastily wiped her eyes.

"I believe so," she replied quietly, reaching into the pocket of her cloak and taking out a folded parchment. The elleth held it out to Glorfindel. "If it is not a terrible imposition, could you see that this letter is delivered to Legolas?" She asked.

Glorfindel smiled and nodded. He reached out and took the parchment from her. "I will see it delivered safely, Lady Anariel. You have my word."

"I thank you," Anariel said, "for everything."

The elven lord continued to smile at her and gave her a slight bow. "Just promise me you will avoid freezing waterfalls in the winter from now on," he said.

Despite herself Anariel chuckled for the first time in days. "I will try, my lord."

An elf aboard the ship called out that all who wished to depart should board. Glorfindel motioned for her to get aboard and without much objection Anariel walked up the boarding plank and onto the deck of the ship. She turned and held her hand up to bid farewell to her friend.

"May the Valar put wind in your sails," he called up to her.

"And may they guide you on your journey Eastward," she replied. As she spoke her last words, the mooring ropes were untied from the wharf and the ship drifted away from the dock. A breeze caught the sail and before Anariel believed it possible, she was on her way West.

Gulls cried out above, and she looked up. She could hear they were crying about the Sea. Breathing deeply of the salty air, Anariel found herself gaining some measure of relief. But doubt was still nagging at her mind.

As Middle Earth shrank on the horizon, Anariel prayed that she had made the right decision.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. "_An I Aear_" means "To The Sea" in Sindarin… if it wasn't immediately obvious from the title.

2. The conversation that Aragorn is having with Éowyn is the "do you not know" moment from The Return of the King.

* * *

_Dear readers, _

_Surprise! You get two chapters today. It feels strange to say this, but once and for all, I have finished the story. I finished writing fourteenth and final chapter this afternoon (and really haven't quite known what to do with myself ever since - seriously, what do you do with yourself after you're done thinking about something for the first time in almost ten years?!). It's my intention to upload one chapter per day from here on out, so the last chapter will be posted on Thursday night. _

_Thank you again for all of your kind reviews and feedback. It really is a delight and a very humbling experience every time I open up my inbox to see that so many of you have added this story to your watches, favorites, or have reviewed. I love to hear from you all, so please feel free to let me know what you think! _

_Happy reading! _

_- Vendie. _


	12. Elvellon

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar_  
Chapter Eleven – Elvellon

It was very early morning; the sun was beginning to appear in the east, casting pink and orange hues in the few clouds scattered across the lightening sky. For any awake at that hour, the mostly-clear blue sky to the east of Minas Tirith was a strange and wonderful sight to behold. No one living had seen it thus.

But one pair of waking eyes had no regard for it.

Legolas leaned on the southern Citadel wall, gazing towards the Anduin. His hair blew in his face and robes fluttered as a gentle northern breeze blew past him, but the elf otherwise stood unmoving as he watched the horizon, clutching an unfolded parchment in his left hand.

A gull cried out in the distance, eliciting the first movement from Legolas in several hours. The elven prince's keen vision searched for, found, and followed the bird some miles off as it flew south lazily. The sound of lapping waves seemed to echo in his ears loudly; so loudly, in fact, that he almost did not hear Gimli approaching from behind. The dwarf stood there for a time, watching and wondering whether Legolas was walking on the elven path of dreams or not.

When Legolas realized Gimli was there, he did not turn. In his mind's eye, he could see the dwarf staring at him sadly, jaw set and arms crossed over his chest. Legolas waited.

"Elves," the dwarf sighed at length, "lad, if you have moved an inch since last I saw you, I shall eat my boot."

A smile twitched on Legolas' lips and he bowed his head, but said nothing. After moments of silence, Gimli let out an exasperated noise and came to stand next to him at the wall.

"I swear upon all the jewels in dwarvendom, if you do not come out of this melancholy I shall tie you up and send you down the Anduin in a barrel with my bare hands. We all have marked how you suffer, especially Aragorn, who is anxious for you. I will not have him thinking of anyone but himself and his wife the morning after his wedding."

Legolas frowned and a sense of guilt crept over him. The wedding had been beautiful; the feast wonderful, dancing mirthful… an appropriate way to usher in a new age of peace and prosperity, but the prince found little joy in it. He had slipped out unnoticed, or so he assumed, during the celebration to sort through his thoughts. He seemed magnetically drawn to the southern Citadel wall, and there he stayed all night.

"Just what is your trouble lad, eh? The sea?" Gimli asked.

If only it were that simple, Legolas thought, finally turning his head to look at his friend and smiling apologetically. After a moment's consideration offered the parchment he held in his hands to the dwarf. Gimli's eyes flickered from Legolas' face to the parchment once or twice, and then he took it in his hands.

"I cannot read your infernal language; you know this," he muttered, losing his patience, "Legolas, what – "

"It is from my wife," Legolas interrupted in a soft murmur. Gimli stared at him silently for a moment, seemingly stricken. The dwarf looked at the parchment again, his eyes skimming over the graceful Sindarin script, and then handed it back to Legolas.

"Wife?" Gimli asked in a hushed, incredulous voice. Legolas felt more guilt nag at him when he saw the hurt expression on his friend's face.

"It seemed frivolous to speak of her while we were abroad," the elven prince replied softly as he folded the parchment with loving delicacy and tucked it into a pocket on the inside of his robes.

"Aragorn knows this?"

"She – Anariel – told him of our marriage before we departed from Imladris. The night we married."

"And I have not earned your trust in this matter before now?" Gimli asked, his voice rising in volume.

"Nay, Gimli," Legolas replied quickly, "it is... I... I have found it difficult to discuss."

Gimli stared at him, frowning, with an eyebrow raised expectantly. Legolas was surprised to feel the burn in his chest as he tried to formulate the words, and he dropped his gaze from Gimli's face. A change seemed to come over the dwarf as he watched Legolas hesitate.

"Legolas," Gimli said with uncharacteristic gentleness. He took a step towards the elf and put a hand on his arm, "lad, where is she?"

Legolas swallowed and looked again towards the Anduin. "She has sailed," he replied in a voice barely audible. Tears burned in his eyes.

Realistically, Legolas thought, he should be comforted by the news that Anariel was safely West. The days, hours, and minutes that had passed as her grief bloomed into his mind had been torturous. He had been granted reprieve when he heard the Call of the Sea, which at the time he thought only covered the turmoil he could feel from her, but when Lord Elrond had arrived with the members of his house and produced Anariel's letter, everything became clear. The overwhelming grief she felt was for the sudden and violent loss of her parents, and he was unable to attend to her in her time of great need. Her turmoil had faded from his mind because she had departed; the distance between them was too great for him to sense anything other than that she lived.

"Might I ask... how - ?" Gimli's voice trailed off, as if he was unsure how to delicately ask the question.

"Lord Celeborn informed me that my homeland suffered great casualties at the hands of the enemy in Dol Guldur. Anariel's parents are amongst our... dead," Legolas said, finding his last word difficult. He had only briefly met Anariel's mother on a few occasions but knew her father very well through the Mirkwood Guard. The loss of his parents-in-law was acutely felt. "In her grief, she began to fade," he continued with a sigh, "and Lord Elrond thought it best to send her where she may find healing."

"I am sorry," Gimli said softly as he patted the elf's arm.

Legolas bowed his head in acknowledgement, but said nothing. The silence hung between the two for some time. The elf thought that Gimli might leave him, but his friend stayed, watching Legolas with worry in his eyes.

Folk of the King's household began to appear to go about their morning duties as the sun continued to climb higher into the sky. After time unmeasured by either of them, Gimli shifted his footing.

"Come, Legolas," he spoke, "you should at least attempt to look as though you have taken rest, lest Aragorn notices."

Much though Legolas was loathe to admit it, he knew Gimli to be in the right. He sighed and cast one lingering glance towards the south, and then followed the dwarf back to the rooms appointed for them within the King's house. They entered through the main hall, still bedecked with flowers and other decorations from the wedding the night before. In the back of the hall was a little-noticed door which led up a winding stair to the King's house. The pair made their way up the stair and down the second-level hallway in silence.

They rounded the corner to their suite on the northfacing side. Legolas suspected that Aragorn had housed them there for his sake, although he had yet to decide if he was thankful for it. The suite had a common room, shared by other members of the Fellowship, with a balcony and several bedrooms each with their own washroom. Gimli pushed the door to the common room open, and they were both surprised by the sight of Mithrandir standing outside the room appointed for Legolas' use, as if he had expected them. The Istar smiled when the two appeared.

"Gandalf!" Gimli exclaimed.

"Good morning Gimli, Legolas," the wizard replied, only looking at Legolas.

"I found this one in a daydream watching the sunrise," Gimli said as he pointed at the elf, "and now he's come back to rest." Legolas did not attempt to fill in any of the ambiguity that Gimli had left for Gandalf to interpret. He suspected the wizard already knew, anyway.

"Ah, yes," Mithrandir said, nodding slowly as he stepped forward and put a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "I shall take him from here, Gimli."

The dwarf arched an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Do not worry, Master Dwarf. I shall see that the prince gets rest – whether he wants it or no," Gandalf replied to the unasked question and winked. Satisfied, Gimli smiled and patted Legolas' other arm.

"Be well, Legolas," he said, turning to leave.

"Thank you, Gimli," the elf managed to say quietly.

Gandalf led the elf into his room. It was still dark inside; the curtains were drawn, apparently in expectation that the occupant would still be sleeping after a long night of dancing and mirth. There were a few candelabras lit, but no fire in the fireplace as the Eldar did not need extra warmth.

"Come, Legolas," the wizard beckoned, motioning to Legolas' bed. The elf thought it strange that Mithrandir would wish to tend to him in this way, but could not muster the energy to question him or argue. He walked over and sat down with little grace upon the feather mattress, feeling heavier than he ever had before.

Mithrandir stood before him, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted slightly to the side as he gazed upon the elf, who would not look him in the eye.

"Many troubles rest upon your shoulders, Legolas Thrandulion, and your grief runs deep," he observed. Legolas acknowledged the comment with a nod, but said nothing. He wasn't totally sure how Mithrandir seemed to know of his cares, but in the back of his mind, Legolas suspected that Lord Elrond had said something. There was silence for a moment, as though Mithrandir was contemplating something, but after the pause he continued, "Do you remember the time, long ago by Esgaroth, when I warned you of the song of the water?"

A spark flew through Legolas' mind and his head snapped up, remembering that moment on the eve of the Battle of Five Armies. Hundreds of questions flashed in his eyes, but he waited for Gandalf to speak again. Several moments passed while the wizard gazed at him with an unreadable expression. Legolas searched his mind and his heart, and somehow knew what Mithrandir was going to say, even before the words reached his ears.

"Though now you understand what was said then, it is not yet your time to hearken to the call."

Legolas let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. His shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes, bowing his head in defeat.

"I know," he replied in a soft voice, laden with utter weariness. Legolas did not move when Mithrandir took another step towards him and laid a hand on the crown of his head.

"For now, my friend, I hope you will take some rest and comfort. Renew your strength for the journey ahead," Mithrandir said. Legolas accepted the comfort the wizard imparted to him, and allowed himself to be pushed into a dreamless sleep.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Legolas woke in the late afternoon. Some of the deep grief he'd felt the night before and early in the day had faded into a dull ache in his heart – perhaps Mithrandir's doing – and facing the day with some semblance of normality did not seem quite as daunting as it had before. He got up and changed into a light tunic and trousers that had been provided to him by the people of Gondor before he opened the door to the Fellowship's common room to find Gimli sitting at a table, watching the elf's door expectantly. There was a spread of food laid upon the table.

"Greetings, fair dreamer," the dwarf teased.

"Hello, friend," Legolas acknowledged with a smile, but continued towards the exit. His plan was to go explore the city, perhaps to plan what the elves may have to offer the capital of Gondor. He needed to occupy – distract, anything – his mind.

"And just where do you think you are going?" Gimli asked as Legolas passed him by. The elf stopped mid-stride and sighed.

"Out," he replied, turning back to face the dwarf.

"Come, break your fast with me instead. You have slept the day away," said Gimli.

"Precisely why I should be out enjoying it," Legolas bantered with as light-hearted a smile he could muster, "and I thank you, but I am not hungry."

Gimli tried his best to suppress an eyeroll. "I am aware that elves do not require sustenance as other creatures do, but do not think that I have not noticed you haven't eaten in two days."

"You are right, elves are not as you children. We eat when we are hungry, and I am not," Legolas repeated.

"You do not deny you haven't eaten in two days?"

Gimli arched an eyebrow at him and crossed his arms over his chest, a fatherly sort-of concern about him. Legolas could only stare at him, unwilling to lie.

"_Sit down_," the dwarf said in exasperation.

Seeing no alternative, Legolas complied. He sat in the chair across the table from Gimli where an empty plate was laid. He glanced around the table a picked out a few pieces of fruit and sweet bread. If he was being honest with himself, Legolas supposed he was hungry, but could not really feel hunger for the ache in his heart. To assuage Gimli, whom he was sure was in league with Gandalf in this endeavor, Legolas ate under the dwarf's watchful eye. He finished the food he put on his plate and then rose again to leave.

"_Legolas!_" Gimli cried.

"_Yes_, Gimli?" Legolas sighed, finding it suddenly his turn to be exasperated.

"What are you doing?"

"I wish to see the city," he replied simply.

"Indeed," snorted the dwarf, "the city or the river?"

"Why should it matter?" Legolas asked, his voice rising with his level of annoyance.

"You have friends who wish to help you – can you not see that?"

"It cannot be helped."

"Legolas, I know the pain you feel – "

"Do you?" Legolas snapped as his temper finally got the better of him. He whirled around to see Gimli, who had stood from his chair and was staring at the elf in surprise. "I have failed her, Gimli," he continued in a loud, angry voice, "I had a choice. I could have stayed by her side to be with her as the days grew darker and instead I chose adventure and battle. The Sea-Longing is nothing in comparison… now that she has gone," he ended rather pitifully.

"You will see her again, Legolas," Gimli replied flatly.

Legolas collapsed into a nearby sofa and averted his eyes from his friend, choosing instead to gaze at a point on the wall.

"Not for many long years," the prince replied in a voice so quiet and so full of pain, Gimli winced to hear it, "for there is much here in Middle Earth yet to do."

Legolas had known even in the first few moments after he began to yearn for the Sea that he was not yet ready to sail. He was of the Sindar, who loved the forests of their birth and thought not of the Blessed Realm. Middle Earth's hold over him was great not just for love of its forests and lands, but its people, too. He felt an almost un-elven attachment to the mortals he had met on his journeys. He had promised Aragorn to help rebuild Minas Tirith; and to Gimli he'd pledged companionship in travels. He wished to return home and see his father, brothers, sister-in-law and niece and nephew. He could not imagine leaving Middle Earth without seeing Arthion's children grown and Hérion married, if he ever got around to it…

Mithrandir's words to him earlier had only served as a reminder of the hard fact that he could not yet leave, much though everything in his being seemed to be screaming at him to build a ship and sail that second.

"I do know your pain, Legolas," Gimli's quiet statement broke through the elf's thoughts. He inclined his gaze again towards the dwarf, who was watching him sadly.

"Bara was her name; her hair was golden, and she was the fairest dwarf-lass under the mountains. She was also the feistiest," Gimli said with a faint chuckle. "There was not a soul amongst my people who did not love her," his voice grew quiet and his eyes unfocused. He paused momentarily, as if he had gotten lost in his own memories. Legolas waited, transfixed. He'd never seen Gimli so transported before, save for when he was speaking of Lady Galadriel.

"She died when a tunnel collapsed on her, during an attack by Orcs," Gimli choked out as he suddenly came back to reality, gazing hard at Legolas, "so I do know, my friend. But there is hope for you, and I wish you would not despair."

Legolas stared at Gimli, feeling very small. There was much grief present in the dwarf's face, and the prince wondered at it. He compared his situation to Gimli's, and thought of forever being parted from Anariel sobered him greatly. Gimli was right; he did have hope.

"I am sorry, Gimli," he finally spoke, "I have been careless."

Gimli sniffed and suddenly his countenance changed; the grief seemed to be put away, replaced with the resilient and fiesty presence Legolas had come to associate with the dwarf.

"Yes, well, I have come to expect it from you," the Gimli replied, a wry smile crossing his face. "After all, you are an elf."

"Indeed," Legolas chuckled and could not help but smile. He was unsure what he had done in his life to deserve such a friend, but knew that no elf, dwarf, man, or hobbit in all of Arda could be to him as Gimli was. It was bizarre to look back on a time, not very many months ago, when he regarded the dwarf as no more to him than an annoyance. The brotherly love he'd come to harbor for Gimli was a strange, but wonderful blessing in his life. He stood and walked over to where Gimli was still seated at the table and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Well, my friend, if I am not allowed to stroll Minas Tirith on my own, would you accompany me? We may discover together what our peoples may be able to do for Aragorn and his city, as we have promised."

Gimli nodded and smiled. "I am glad you finally realize that I am the only one who seems to understand how to keep you out of trouble," he jested.

Legolas threw back his head and laughed for what felt like the first time in ages as the two walked towards the door.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. "Elvellon" means "elf friend" in Sindarin.

2. Gandalf, speaking to Legolas of the Call of the Sea, is referring to an interaction that happens in _The History of Legolas: The Last Green Leaf_, chapter thirteen:

_"Water is a curious thing for many an elf," Mithrandir cut him off, a serious look upon his face. "Some say that upon the waters of the world the Music of the Ainur can still be heard in echoes. But do not tarry, Prince, for it is not your time to hearken to the call." _

3. On Bara: First, I'd just like to ask, have you noticed that Gimli seems to have a thing for blondes…? … Ahem – anyway.

Tolkien says in The War of the Jewels that not all dwarves marry (AND the females have beards – good on you Peter Jackson for slipping that in), and I imagine that since Gimli sails with Legolas at the end of the Third Age, he was unlikely to have a wife and children that he wished to farewell, so I am disinclined to think he married at all. If any amongst you disagree, by all means, chase that plot bunny down.

The name "Bara" is actually Hebrew. Tolkien based (what little there is of the) dwarvish language, Khuzdul, on the Semitic languages, so it seemed appropriate. It means "to choose."

* * *

_Hi readers, _

_My note on yesterday's chapter is apparently giving rise to some confusion for which I apologize. The story is NOT done YET. That is, I am finished with the revisions and edits, but I have not posted the ending yet. The entire story is fourteen chapters (fifteen, with the prologue), so I will continue to post the remaining chapters one per day as I have been. It ain't over until the fat lady sings ... or, in this case, until Legolas sails over the Sea. And, as this chapter has illustrated, he's got some stuff to do before then, so... happy reading! _

_- Vendie._


	13. Al Anann Mar

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar_  
Chapter Twelve – Al Anann Mar

It was August when Gimli and Legolas said their farewells, promising to meet again once arrangements could be made to come with folk to help rebuild Minas Tirith. Legolas rode north at an un-eager speed, allowing his horse, Arod, plenty of time to rest and himself plenty of time to explore the valley of the Anduin. The journey parallel to the river was a bittersweet mix for the prince; for while the sights were beautiful and wonderful to behold, ever the call of the Sea was nagging at him. Relief did not come when his journey took him eastward, away from the river. He thought it strange, for the prospect of being under a canopy of trees always lightened his spirits before, but the nearer he came to the edge of the forest the more he longed to turn back.

Somehow, Legolas overcame his desire to linger near the water and began to veer to the East, towards Mirkwood. He avoided entering the forest of his people until north of the Mountains of Mirkwood mostly out of habit. All his life, anything near to the mountains was considered dangerous, spider-ridden territory, and it was always in a traveler's best interest to enter the forest on the Forest Road. But when Legolas saw the highest peaks of the mountain range, something in his memory stirred, and he nudged Arod into the forest just north of the mountains.

Evidence of the battles Mirkwood saw during the War was abundant within hours of traveling under the canopy. There were hundreds of burned and damaged trees, and the earth was scorched and torn. Legolas' heart broke for his homeland, and began to fear what he would find when he finally approached his father's halls.

After a day and half of riding under the trees, Legolas found what he had been seeking after: a clearing about halfway between the Mountains of Mirkwood and the Elvenking's home.

He was surprised to see that the clearing was mostly intact; the trees around it had obviously been in the midst of very bitter fighting, for they were knocked over, burned, slashed, and murmured their hurts into the wind, but one tree in the center of the clearing was unharmed. The lonely pine stood, its boughs waving gently in the sunny breeze as if to welcome him to that place.

Legolas slipped off of Arod and walked over to the pine. He looked upon it in silent wonder for some time before reaching out to touch its trunk.

"Hello," he said softly. The tree's branches rustled in cheerful response, as if it recognized him. Legolas looked up through the pine needles and was amazed by the lack of damage the tree seemed to have. He was sure that, given the state of the forest around it, the fact that this pine – his mother's tree – had escaped unscathed was nothing short of miraculous.

"It does me good to see you so well," said Legolas, running his hand over the soft bark and smiling as he continued to admire the tree up and down. He walked around the base once, and then grabbing a low-hanging branch, he swung himself up into the tree and sat down with his back to the trunk. He heard Arod snort from across the clearing, as if to scoff at the elf's frivolity.

"Rest for a while, my friend!" Legolas called to the horse with a laugh. Arod snorted again, but it wasn't long before Legolas heard the steed munching on some grass.

Smiling, the prince slipped back into a quiet, contemplative state and allowed himself to be comforted by the presence of his mother's pine tree, but relaxation evaded him. Though the songs of the trees were familiar and welcoming here, he could feel nothing but restlessness and agitation. He could hear a faint echo of lapping water in his ears, though he knew of no bodies of water nearby. Legolas knew without thinking about it overmuch that Lady Galadriel's warning was true in more than one sense; his heart was no longer in the forest.

Legolas let out a deep breath and reached out with his fëa to Anariel. As had been the case ever since she sailed, her response was only dimly felt. The tree behind him sensed his grief and seemed to sigh in sympathy and softly began to whisper words of comfort into Legolas' ear. Grateful, Legolas stayed in the branches with his eyes closed for some time.

After a while, he could hear the sounds of elves in the distance as they made their way through the forest on patrol. Deciding his respite was at an end, Legolas gracefully rolled out of the tree and landed with both feet on solid ground.

"Thank you," he said to the tree. Then he pressed the fingers of his left hand to his lips and then touched them to the pine one last time. "I shall not return, I fear," he continued sadly, "but I shall not forget your beauty, who you are, and what you have meant to me."

The tree gave a mournful sigh, and with a painful effort Legolas turned away to gather Arod, who was snoozing on the southern end of the clearing. The elf called to the steed, who awakened and tossed his head before trotting over to him. Legolas mounted and gave one long and last glance to the pine tree, and then urged Arod into a canter pointed northeast.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Legolas rode over the bridge into his father's halls in the early day on the first of September, just shy of a year since he'd departed for Imladris with Anariel following behind.

A party of scouts had crossed his path about an hour prior to his arrival, and two of the elves accompanied him back while one rode ahead with all haste to spread the news that Prince Legolas had returned to the Woodland Realm. The doors of the Elvenking's Hall swung open before Legolas to reveal all of his father's household and much of the Mirkwood court there, crying out and cheering jubilantly at his arrival. Legolas could not help but smile as he pulled Arod to a stop and dismounted, only to be immediately set upon by his niece and nephew who were so boisterous in their embrace that Legolas fell over in a heap of elflings.

"Uncle Leaf!" Erynion and Titheniel cried out.

"Hello little ones!" Legolas exclaimed as he wrapped an arm around each elfling and hugged them tightly, pressing kisses into their hair. He then pulled back and looked upon their ecstatic, smiling faces. "You have grown so much," he remarked with a gasp. Though they had only aged a year, both children seemed much taller to him. Erynion's voice was deeper and his face favored Elaneth's more starkly than it had before. Titheniel's face, in contrast, seemed to echo Arthion's now. There was even a small hint of Almwen that he had never seen before.

"We are thrown over, Arthion. See how he greets the elflings before us?" Legolas heard Hérion's voice, and he looked up to see his two brothers laughing and smiling down at him. Erynion scrambled off of Legolas' lap to allow his uncle to stand. Titheniel, on the other hand, clung to his neck, so Legolas held her on his hip as he stood to greet the rest of his kin.

"Of course I do," joked Legolas, "they are more adorable than you."

Hérion let out a barking laugh and stepped forward and enveloped Legolas in a tight embrace.

"Thank you for returning to us, Legolas," he said as he pulled back. The youngest of Thranduil's sons was surprised to see tears in his older brother's eyes.

Arthion, who was standing next to their middle brother, patted Hérion on the shoulder and then moved past him to embrace Legolas. He pressed an affectionate kiss to the side of Legolas' head and then gathered his daughter.

"We missed you, my brother. None so much as my children," Arthion remarked with a smile as Titheniel nodded her head vehemently in agreement.

"Ada says he needs to learn more bedtime stories from you," she said. Arthion shook his head incredulously as he laughed at his child's comment.

"Well," Legolas addressed his niece as he patted her father's shoulder, "I am very glad to report that I have seen enough to teach your father stories to fill a lifetime."

Legolas was aware that Arthion was saying something to him, but for the first time, the young prince noticed that his father stood just beyond his brothers and the elflings, watching with tears glistening in his eyes and a large smile on his face. Legolas moved past his eldest brother and approached the Elvenking, stopping to offer a low bow.

"I have returned, my king, after serving in battle abroad beside Aragorn Elessar, King of Men, who sits now on the Throne of Gondor. I was companion to the Nine who set out from Rivendell to see the One Ring destroyed. Long and grievous were our journeys. It gives me great joy to report that, though our paths diverged, the Ring Bearer was successful, and Isildur's Bane is no more. Sauron is defeated," he pronounced.

"Rise, my son," Thranduil said.

Legolas straightened himself and did not have much time to look upon his father's face before the Elvenking was upon him, wrapping his arms in a tight squeeze around his son. Legolas chuckled and returned the embrace.

"Welcome home," Thranduil said quietly into Legolas' ear.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Naturally, Legolas' return required a celebration. Or, at least, that is what Hérion had said to his brother when he announced there would be a feast three days hence. While he could not deny the Wood Elves an opportunity to celebrate the end of the war or his coming, Legolas was glad of the buffer between his arrival and the actual event. There were things to which he needed to attend.

After night fell on his first night home, he slipped away from his family long enough to seek out where the dead of the Woodland Realm slept.

He found them outside, on the bank of the Forest River. Hundreds of river stones bearing names lay in rows in a clearing, standing mute witness to the destruction that the enemy had inflicted upon the elves of the Woodland Realm. The sheer number made Legolas' heart stop. He stood at the head of the cemetery, frozen for several moments as he remarked on how dearly bought was the peace in the newly-christened Eryn Lasgalen.

After what seemed too short a time to fathom all the strife of his people, Legolas began to walk the rows searching for Anariel's parents.

Much to his grief, Legolas recognized many of the names he passed. His search took far longer than planned, if only because he spent so much time pausing to whisper prayers for those departed whom he knew. Then, finally, he arrived at two stones laid next to each other, bearing the names of Anariel's parents, Alagos and Naerdiel.

Legolas knelt in the space between their graves, laying his hands lightly over the ground where their broken bodies lay. He felt as though he should say something, but no words came to mind. The depth of his sorrow seemed to swallow him as he sat there, thinking of all of the ways in which he had failed their daughter – failed them. His heart was too full, and he could no longer hold back his grief. He wept as he had not allowed himself to ever in his life for a length of time he could not measure. His tears were many, but not enough to satisfy the tumult of sadness, weariness, and guilt within him.

The sound of the nearby river lapping in its banks seemed to fill his ears and Legolas grew angry. He could not handle the call of the Sea at this moment – would he never find rest? Would he be always distracted by the sound of the Call, even what he needed – what he desired – was to be fully present, to help those whom he loved until his tasks in Middle Earth were done?

"Legolas,"

The prince, startled, turned to look over his shoulder and saw his father standing over him, a sad and sympathetic look in his eyes.

"Adar," said Legolas, hastily wiping his eyes and standing, "I am sorry I left; I thought – "

Thranduil waved his hand and shook his head, dismissing the excuse, "I know," he said quietly.

Legolas looked upon his father's face and did not find the anxiousness or fatherly worry he usually found reflected in Thranduil's eyes. Instead, he saw in his father's eyes the grief of an age spent sundered from his dearest friend; his wife, and the mother of his children. Standing there, in that moment, Legolas could see Thranduil's sufferings laid bare before him and understood them as he never had before.

Suddenly, a curtain was lifted between father and son.

Feeling rather like a child and somewhat ashamed, tears anew sprang in Legolas' eyes, though he did not recoil when Thranduil stepped forward to embrace him. The prince in his turn wrapped his arms around his father. A strange mix of grief and joy swirled within him, knowing that even as he and his father reconciled, there would come a day when he would leave the shores of Middle Earth and have to part with his family forever. His father knew this as well; Legolas had told them only hours before of Anariel's departure and the Sea Longing.

"Come, my son," said Thranduil, after a time. He pulled away and looked upon Legolas with a smile. "Let us return home. There are stories – stories of your mother – which I have kept too long from you that I wish to share."

Pushing his dark thoughts of the future aside, Legolas smiled back at his father. "I would like that, Adar," he answered.

* * *

**NOTES**

1. "Al annan mar" means "no longer home" in Sindarin… roughly. I translated that myself, and am certainly no authority on the tongues of the Eldar. Corrections or suggestions are welcome.

2. The clearing in the beginning of this story is where Almwen, Legolas' mother, died; the tree makes a cameo in the second-to-last chapter of _The Last Green Leaf_.


	14. I Gwannad O Elessar

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
_Chapter Thirteen – I Gwannad O Elessar

It was a clear, cool night in northern Ithilien. The stars and moon were bright in the sky as music drifted through the elf colony on the banks of the Anduin, just south of Cair Andros. Legolas was found that night standing on the sandy shore of the river, dressed in his finest silver robes, watching the star Eärendil make his nightly journey through the sky.

Many years had passed since his return to Eryn Lasgalen after the War of the Ring. Through reconciliation with his father, Legolas obtained the Elvenking's permission to settle with some of the Wood Elves in Ithilien with the purpose of restoring the Kingdom of Gondor to its former glory. Many of the elves who journeyed with Legolas had lost loved ones in the war and desired to begin anew. They traveled first to Minas Tirith, meeting with Gimli's folk, and helped replenish the gardens of the city. After some years of work there, Legolas led them across the river into Osgiliath and then north, finally settling where the stream from Henneth Annun met the Anduin.

The forest in that location had been thin at first, but under the care of the Wood Elves, it flourished all the way to the river's bank. The colony was now entirely ensconced by the woods. Some of the settlement was in open-air buildings on the ground like those in Imladris, others built their homes in the trees as was done in Lothlórien. For himself, Legolas had designed a home mixed of both, for Gimli was a frequent visitor and could not be convinced of the merits of living high above the ground. The prince picked a spot near to the river's edge to build his home. It was a simple dwelling that ran parallel to the Anduin. The ground level had several guest quarters, his study, a dining hall, and a small open-air ballroom for entertaining, and his personal quarters were in a flet made accessible by a spiral stair that rounded a tree. His home had seen many visitors over the years, from hobbits and dwarves to kings of men and elves. On that night in particular, his home played host to Legolas' entire family, nearly all of whom had traveled from Eryn Lasgalen for the wedding of Legolas' youngest niece, Alassiel.

Legolas smiled to himself as he thought over the many additions with which his family had been blessed over the years. Arthion and his wife added a daughter to their family a year to the day of the war's end, but now all of his children were grown and were beginning to be granted children of their own. An elleth named Indilwen had finally managed to tame Hérion, and they married in the second year of the Fourth Age. Subsequently, they had three sons and one daughter. Though each of his nieces and nephews had been raised in the Woodland Realm, Hérion's youngest children, Feredir and Alassiel, had made their home in Ithilen for the last five years or so. Alassiel, who's wedding was that very night, met her husband, Erundil, in Legolas' dining hall only three years ago.

"You would have planned the evening better," Legolas said to the stars, thinking of Anariel. No words in the tongues of the Eldar, Men, or others could adequately describe the chasm in his heart he felt by their long separation.

"Uncle Legolas?"

Legolas turned to see his niece, Alassiel, standing just above him where the ground tipped towards the shore. She was the picture of beauty that night; there were tiny white flowers woven into her midnight hair and she wore a rich, green gown with silver details. Her deep brown eyes looked at him in concern, and Legolas was reminded of how starkly Alassiel resembled her departed grandmother.

"You cannot have grown weary of your husband so soon, little one," said Legolas, smiling at her.

Alassiel tipped her head at him and arched an eyebrow. "I am not so little now," she replied with playful indignation, walking towards him, "for as you say, I am married now."

"You will have to forgive me, for I am afraid that to me you shall always be little Lassie," the proud uncle replied, still smiling at her as she came to a stop by his side.

"So long as you do not treat me like a child, as Adar is prone to do," she quipped. Legolas chuckled. Much though Hérion would vehemently deny it, he erred on the over-protective side when it came to his only daughter. She and Legolas had grown close over their shared burden of being the youngest.

"I think my brother has shown great restraint this night," he said.

"Yes, well, Erundil and I have not yet attempted to leave so we may consummate our bond."

Legolas, startled by that thought, was sudden taken by a fit of coughing. Alassiel threw her head back in laughter as she looped one arms through her uncle's and with the other patted him on the shoulder.

"Forgive me, I meant not to disturb you," she apologized, still laughing.

The prince arched an eyebrow at her. "Indeed," he managed. "Speaking of, where is your husband?"

"Attempting to talk Prince Eldarion out of a drinking contest with my brothers, last I saw him,"

Legolas laughed and shook his head. He meant to say more, but a gull cried out in the distance and he could not help his near-instinctual response. He breathed in sharply and closed his eyes, trying to will the wave of despair and longing that followed away. Alassiel stepped closer to him and held his arm in hers firmly. Several minutes of silence passed as Legolas regained control of his faculties.

"Uncle," Alassiel's soft voice called his attention back. He looked down into her brown eyes, which were again watching him in worry. He smiled at her and kissed her brow.

"Worry not," he said, "I am well."

His niece's expression betrayed her disbelief. "It has gotten worse," she said. It was not a question.

Much though he wished to deny it, Alassiel was right. The intervening one-hundred-twenty years had robbed Legolas of much that used to bring joy to his life. Mithrandir, Bilbo, Frodo, and Sam had long ago sailed across the Sea. Folk he had met during the waning years of the Third Age had grown old and died; Prince Imharil and King Éomer were among the first, followed shortly after by Lady Éowyn, Prince Faramir, and the hobbits Merry and Pippin. Legolas could count amongst his mortal friends now only two: Aragorn and Gimli, both of whose holds on life were now frail at best. Each death had faded Legolas' Eldarin light and made it harder for him to resist the Call of the Sea. It was obvious to many how weary he'd grown. It was remarked by some that it even appeared as though he had aged.

"It has," he finally admitted, smiling at Alassiel still, "but take heart, dear one. I know it grieves you to think there will be a day when I may sail, but one of the things I wished to see before taking a ship was all of my nieces and nephews settled. You have given me that."

He could see a brief flicker of sadness in her eyes before Alassiel smiled and nodded at him. She leaned up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

"I should return, Uncle, but please do not tarry long," she said. Legolas nodded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to give her an affectionate squeeze.

"Go," he replied, giving her a last, reassuring smile. He watched her as she left up the hill and disappeared past the arched doorway of his home into where song and dance continued on in the open-air ballroom.

Legolas turned back to face the Anduin and continued his moonlit vigil. He could not help but return to thinking of Anariel, and how much he needed her. He had never really understood just how much she had supported him through the years they were together until he was no longer able to be with her. With each friend who passed beyond the circles of the world, Legolas felt less and less as though he was whole or home.

The falling of horse's hooves in the distance pulled Legolas out of his melancholy and back to the present. He looked to the south, from whence the noise came, and he could see a man off in the distance – a dispatch rider from Minas Tirith, by the look of him – riding with all haste towards where Legolas stood. The keenness of the elf's vision and hearing had not waned since the days of the Fellowship, so the prince had much time to himself to wonder what would bring a dispatch from the White City, barely a day's ride from his colony, so late at night. The rider would have set out around mid-afternoon to be arriving when he was.

When the man could make out Legolas' form standing near the bank of the river, he held up his hand in greeting and cried out:

"Hail! I bring tidings from the Queen of Gondor!"

Legolas raised his hand to acknowledge the rider, but, perplexed, did not call back. Legolas and Arwen frequently corresponded with one another, but never had the Queen sent an urgent message. Usually such news came from Aragorn.

Soon the rider was upon him and pulled his steed to a halt. The horse whinnied and tossed its head as its rider removed himself from the saddle and landed on the ground. The man bowed low before Legolas.

"Hail, Prince Legolas," he said, apparently recognizing the Elvenking's son.

"Well met," Legolas replied, nodding his head and placing his right hand over his breast in greeting. "What news from Gondor?"

"An urgent message from the Queen," said the dispatch rider, taking an envelope with Arwen's wax seal from a leather bag attached to his belt. He handed it to the prince, who took it and hastily pulled the paper apart, frowning. Legolas quickly read over the words Queen Arwen had no doubt hurriedly written only hours before and felt his heart sink.

"I shall inform Prince Eldarion at once, and we shall set out at first light," said Legolas, "come, I will see to it that you have a place to rest."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

As promised, Legolas set out the moment the darkness of night began to fade. The sun had not yet peeked out from behind the mountains when he and Eldarion began their ride south with all haste. They arrived in the White City as the morning waned into afternoon, windswept and weary, but did not stop for rest. The two traveled up the tiers of the city until they came to the Citadel and went straight to the Court of the Fountain, where they found Arwen waiting for them under the White Tree.

To any mortal, Arwen would have seemed unchanged. But when Legolas saw her he was taken aback by how her grief had diminished her light. Arwen looked up and met Legolas' eyes, saw a weariness that resembled her own, and silently the two elves of Gondor shared a moment of understanding.

"Mother," Eldarion called as they approached, "how is he?"

"Weary, but well for now," the Queen replied quietly. "Come, he is in the House of Kings. Many of our family and friends are with him there."

Legolas' heart gave a lurch at her words, for the House of Kings was where the honored dead of Gondor slept.

Arwen turned and led them back through the Citadel gate and to the rear of the sixth circle of the city, to Fen Hollen, Rath Dínen, and the Silent Street. Legolas remembered with a shudder Pippin once telling him how the Steward, Denethor, met his end in the House of the Stewards many years past during the Seige of Gondor. The youngest of the Fellowship's Halflings always held an aversion to that place, but when Merry died and was laid to rest in Rath Dínen, Pippin overcame, and asked that when he passed away he be laid beside his friend.

And so they came to the House of Kings. The polished metal door stood open, and Legolas could see down the passageway, lit by torches, the room that would be Aragorn's final resting place. So consumed by dread was he, that Legolas almost missed that Gimli stood beside the door, amongst some of Eldarion's many sisters. The dwarf had changed much in the intervening years. His once auburn hair and beard were now completely white, and his face cragged with lines. The stocky body that once cleaved orcs upon the walls of the Hornburg was stiff and thin.

"My Queen," he said, addressing Arwen, "your brothers and Lord Celeborn are with him now. They will be out soon, I think."

"Thank you, Gimli," Arwen replied with a smile. She turned to her son and Legolas. "I shall go in. I know he wishes to see each of you, and I will call when he is ready." And with that, she turned and walked down the passageway, her steps heavy with grief. Legolas watched after her with pain in his heart.

Eldarion turned to his sisters and embraced the youngest who was weeping, and began quietly asking questions of the others.

"I am glad you came with such haste," said Gimli, drawing Legolas' attention back to the dwarf, "I arrived last week only to visit for a few days. He asked me to stay…"

The way Gimli's voice trailed off told Legolas all he needed to know; that Aragorn had appointed the time of his doom himself.

Legolas closed his eyes and let out a sigh as he drew near to Gimli and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. Slowly, Gimli reached across his chest and patted Legolas' hand. "I have been in to see him," the dwarf said in a quiet, crackly voice, "and it is time."

The prince found he could not reply. He had always known this moment would come, but it was bitter to face.

After a few minutes, Lord Celeborn, Elladan, and Elrohir appeared in the doorway. The twins went immediately to speak with Eldarion, but Lord Celeborn came to where Gimli and Legolas stood. His eyes were full of sorrow.

"He is asking for you, Legolas," Celeborn said without preface.

The Wood Elf felt Gimli squeeze the hand that rested on his shoulder and Legolas took a few breaths, building up the strength to face what he was sure to be one of the most difficult partings of his life. He swallowed, and then swiftly stepped away from Gimli and Lord Celeborn to enter beyond the door to the House of Kings.

Legolas' steps echoed on the marble of the floor, and his journey down the hall seemed to occur in slowing time. When he finally reached the rounded inner-room, he found Aragorn laying on a long bed. Arwen was nearby, keeping silent vigil from a comfortable chair that had apparently been brought in for her. The tokens of Elessar's house, the Sceptre of Arnor and the Winged Crown, were on a table nearby the Queen. The King of Gondor was dressed in fine, comfortable clothes as he lay. His eyes were closed but Legolas could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. Aragorn was much as much changed as Gimli before the elf's eyes. The once tall and muscled body was thin and bent. His hair was now white, his tan skin marked by lines and sunspots. But in some odd twist of irony, the senses that had made him a good tracker in the wild had not faded. When Legolas stepped into the room, the king awakened.

"Legolas," he said with a smile, "I am glad you have come, my friend."

A smile twitched on the corners of the elf's mouth as he approached. "I will always come," he replied in a quiet, but steady voice. As he came to Aragorn's bedside, he placed a hand on the king's shoulder.

"Yes, well, I am the king," Aragorn joked tiredly.

"And you are always in need of my assistance escaping from trouble," Legolas quipped.

"Then I am happy to report that there is not much trouble to be had here anymore," replied the king. Legolas drew back, semi-horrified, but Aragorn's countenance did not change. His tired, grey eyes stared evenly at his friend, hoping that the elf may understand.

"Aragorn,"

"Of the Dúnedain and long lived I may be, Legolas," Aragorn cut him off, "but I am mortal nonetheless."

"Would you leave before your time is done?" Asked the prince, hardly able to disguise the pain and confusion in his voice. The king chuckled with a sigh.

"My beloved wife asked me that question hardly one day ago," he remarked, "and I give you the answer I gave her: I will depart, whether I chose or no, and I wish not to fade into dotage. My son is ready to come into his reign, and though it pains me to give you grief, my time has come to an end."

Legolas said nothing, but gazed at his mortal friend sadly. As an elf, he could only barely comprehend choosing death. To the Eldar, choosing such a doom was something of battle and strife, not age or weariness. Though, in a way that not many other elves could understand, for they were unfamiliar with Men, Legolas could understand Aragorn's choice. It was hard enough to see Aragorn so aged; he did not want to know what it would be to see Aragorn old, frail, and weak-minded.

At length, Aragorn spoke again. "Will you sail?" He asked. Legolas broke eye contact with the king.

"I must. And soon, I fear," Legolas answered.

"Do not tarry long, my friend," Elessar said softly. Legolas met his eyes again, frowning. "Your light has faded. I can see it," the Man explained.

"My task is not yet done," replied Legolas with a shrug.

"I know you stay for us – for Gimli and me – but it is folly. You will fade, Legolas, and your wife awaits you across the sea."

"You should not concern yourself with me, Aragorn. I have chosen my doom, just as you have chosen yours," said Legolas in a stern, but loving voice. He smiled and then took Aragorn's hand in his. The king was silent for a few moments, apparently trying to decide whether he should press the matter or let it go. But then, Aragorn's grey eyes lost their focus and slipped closed. His breathing became erratic. Across the room, Arwen sat up straighter in alarm as she sensed a change in her husband.

"Aragorn," Legolas said urgently, leaning over to gently shake his friend's shoulder with his unoccupied hand. The king's eyes fluttered open and he smiled.

"Time grows short, I fear," he said with an effort, "and I must pass on the tokens of my house to my son."

Swallowing the uprising of grief that swelled within him, Legolas nodded. "I will go and fetch Eldarion," he replied.

"You have ever been a friend and brother to me, Legolas," Elessar said, "and you have sacrificed much for my sake. I fear I can never repay you."

"A friend and brother has no need of repayment, dear one. Your friendship has been a blessing in my life," Legolas replied quietly, his voice thick.

"As has your friendship been to me. Thank you, Legolas," Aragorn said.

Legolas smiled and leaned forward to kiss the brow of the king. Aragorn reassuringly squeezed his hand, and with an effort, Legolas stepped back.

"Farewell, my friend," said Aragorn.

Blinking back tears, Legolas managed to maintain his smile as he replied, "Farewell, Aragorn. Be at peace."

Legolas Thranduilion looked his last upon Aragorn Elessar, King of Gondor, and turned down the passageway, feeling the fragile threads of his heart fraying as he walked away.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"_There [Aragorn]said farewell to Eldarion, and gave into his hands the winged crown of Gondor and the sceptre of Arnor; and then all left him save Arwen, and she stood alone by his bed…_

'…_let us not be overthrown at the final test, who of old renounced the Shadow and the Ring. In sorrow we must go, but not in despair. Behold! We are not bound for ever to the circles of the world, and beyond them is more than memory. Farewell!' [said Aragorn.] _

'_Estel, Estel!' [Arwen] cried, and with that even as he took her hand and kissed it, he fell into sleep. Then a great beauty was revealed in him, so that all who after came there looked on him in wonder; for they saw that grace of his youth, and the valour of his manhood, and the wisdom and majesty of his age were blended together. And long there he lay, an image of the splendour of the Kings of Men in glory undimmed before the breaking of the world."_

– _The Tale of Aragorn and Arwen, Appendix A, __The Return of the King__. _

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"… _It is said that the beds of Meriadoc and Peregrin were set beside the bed of the great king. Then Legolas built a grey ship in Ithilien, and sailed down the Anduin and so over the Sea; and with him, it is said, went Gimli the Dwarf. And when that ship passed an end was come in Middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring."_

– _Later Events Concerning the Members of the Fellowship of the Ring, Appendix C, __The Return of the King__. _

* * *

**NOTES**

1. "I gwannad o Elessar" means "the passing (literally, departing) of Elessar" in Sindarin. Again, I am by no means an expert, and any suggestions or advice would be helpful.

2. Regarding Legolas' nieces and nephews: Elves come of age at 50 years, and according to _The Laws and Customs of the Eldar _(in Morgoth's Ring), typically marry around that time, with exceptions (generally; war, strife, etc, which is what delayed Legolas' generation in marriage). Since the Fourth Age was regarded as a time of peace, it seems likely that young elves so inclined to remain in Middle Earth would continue to make their families there. In FA 120, Erynion would be approximately 130, and Titheniel would be about 125. The youngest of Arthion's children, Sidhiel (whose name means "peace"), is 120.

Because I like to know everything as an author, I mapped out Hérion's family. His children with Indilwen are: Eleyond (aged 115), Aradan (110), Feredir (80), and Alassiel (55).

3. I scoured everything to try and figure out if Tolkien ever says precisely where Legolas settles in Ithilien, but came up with not much. We know from The Return of the King, _The Field of Cormallen_, before Legolas sings his Song of the Sea, he says:

"_In days to come, if my Elven-lord allows, some of our folk shall remove hither; and when we come it shall be blessed, for a while." _

Cormallen is in Northern Ithilien, near the island of Cair Andros, but it's not marked on any map I could find. The place I describe seemed as good a place as any – but I would like to make clear that I wrote on the assumption that Legolas did not settle _exactly_ at Cormallen, because it may have been to the wood elves' trade advantage to settle nearer to Minas Tirith and Osgiliath (whereas I think it's likely that Cormallen was a bit more to the north, closer to Morannon and the Black Gate).

4. As I've cited, the passages in italics was written by J.R.R. Tolkien, and may be found in Appendix A and C of The Return of the King. I found that no other words but his were appropriate enough for the moment. To be clear, where there are ellipses, I've skipped paragraphs, and where names appear in brackets I added them in lieu of pronouns.

* * *

_On a personal note, I do want to mention that I wrote this chapter with my two cousins, Dylan and Hughes, very much on my mind. _

_They were brothers, both of whom died recently and well before their time. They are dearly missed._

_-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-_

_Final chapter goes up **tomorrow**, friends! _


	15. Nan Annûn

_I Aear Cân Ven Na Mar  
_Chapter Fourteen – Nan Annûn

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"_You cannot be always torn in two. You will have to be one and whole, for many years. You have so much to enjoy and to be, and to do."_

– _Frodo to Sam. The Grey Havens, __The Return of the King._

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I still do not know how you talked me into this."

Legolas could not help but laugh and roll his eyes at Gimli's suggestion. He peered over the railing of the upper deck, one hand still on the wheel, and saw the dwarf sitting cross-legged at the joint where the wall of the upper deck met the floor of the lower.

"If I remember correctly, it was _you_ who talked _me_ into this," the elf replied.

"Only because you were much too … _elvish_, to see sense," the dwarf snorted, crossing his arms.

Legolas could not object to this remark, for it was true. After the death of Aragorn, Gimli returned with him to Ithilien for what was supposed to be a brief stay. Much though the elf had tried to assuage his friend's fears, it was obvious that the death of their closest friend had undone him. Legolas began to fade; he spent many a day in a fog of weariness and grief, sitting on the sand outside his home and gazing sadly upon the Anduin. He did not speak, eat, or rest. Gimli begged him many times to set sail, but Legolas could not bring himself to begin building a ship. Though he was certain that Gimli's passing would be his death knell, Legolas could not bear to leave his dearest friend in the world to face death alone.

But Gimli's stubbornness, it proved, had only gotten worse with age.

One grey morning that was wrapped in a thick fog, Legolas had heard the first sounds of hammers and saws just to the south of his home. After several hours of pounding and sawing, curiosity finally got the better of the prince and he went to investigate. Much to his surprise, he found his brothers, nephews, and Gimli all toiling over the skeleton of a ship.

"Your work is for naught, for I cannot sail," Legolas had said to them.

"You presume much, princeling," Gimli had replied nonchalantly, continuing to hammer a board into place on what would soon be the bow, "for this ship is not for you; it is for me."

"For you," Legolas had asked dumbly. The suggestion that Gimli would sail by himself was, quite possibly, the most preposterous thing Legolas had ever heard.

"Yes. For me. I wish to see the Lady Galadriel before I pass, and your brothers and their sons have kindly offered to help me with the ship's construction. We could use your hands, too, if you find yourself with spare time," Gimli had replied, "and then when we are finished, perhaps you can come with me, for you seem bound for the Blessed Realm no matter what, and I understand from Lord Glorfindel that returning by means of the Halls of Waiting is a long process."

"Gimli, I cannot ask you to do this,"

Legolas would certainly never forget the fierce glare the dwarf fixed upon him as he spoke his next words:

"Legolas, _I_ am asking _you_. And if you refuse then I will _force_ you."

It had not taken long to build the ship with so many at it. In a little more than ten days, their task was done, and it was time to set sail.

Parting with his family was bitter, but Legolas was glad that they had all been in Ithilien to bid him farewell. He was unsure whether or not any of his nieces, nephews, or brothers would forsake the forest of their birth for the Blessed Realm, and it broke his heart to leave them. Though each member of his family seemed to understand that he could not stay, Legolas knew the pain he was inflicting upon them. He deeply wished there was another way.

The worst of his goodbyes was to his father, who had already lost so much. He was the last to embrace Legolas before he walked up the gangplank of their grey ship.

"Adar," Legolas addressed him sadly, "I am sorry that I must go,"

"My son," Thranduil had said, not bothering to hide his tears and in spite of his smile, "why should you be sad to leave?"

"I know at what price my life was purchased – what it cost you, and my brothers – and now I fear that it may all seem for naught."

An unreadable expression came over Thranduil's face, like a strange mix of love and agony, and he gathered Legolas in his arms and embraced him tightly.

"Oh Legolas, never," the Elvenking said softly in a breaking voice, "I know for much of your life I have been eager for your safety, but I am also eager for your happiness. I believe I have finally come to understand."

"Understand what, Adar?"

Thranduil then pulled back and held his son's face in his hands. "That sometimes we must give up that what we love most, so that it may be saved for others; so your mother gave up her life that you might live. You willingly followed Elessar, though you knew it would cost you your happiness under the trees. And now, I give you up that you might find peace and joy."

And with that, the Elvenking kissed his son's brow, and let him go for the last time.

The wind was with Legolas and Gimli as they sailed down the Anduin, and they passed into the Bay of Belfalas within two weeks. Legolas, in the long years before that day, had learned from other elves – primarily Lord Glorfindel, who was from Aman – of the journey across the Sea and how it was accomplished. That morning, he could see something odd in the distance. Far off, where the horizon should have been clear, the line between sea and sky seemed to be blurry. He smiled.

"I believe the Straight Road is ahead. If I am right, we are close," said Legolas.

Gimli made a sort-of pleased-sounding groan, but did not budge from his location on deck. "At last," he muttered.

Legolas chuckled. "Gimli," he called. With his arms still crossed, the dwarf turned his head and peered above to where Legolas stood, smiling down at him.

"Thank you for bringing me with you," Legolas said.

The dwarf's eyes twinkled and he failed to hide the smile that pulled at his lips. "Well, someone must keep an eye on you," he replied.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

To the north and west of the Havens of Avallónë in Erëssea, there was nestled in the limestone hills on either side of a southern-flowing river, a forest. The forest was not thick like the woods of Middle Earth, but to the Sindar, it was perfect. There were not many settled there, for few of them in their lives had heard the Sea's call.

It was to that forest on this day in particular that the Maia, Olórin, came searching. No longer bound to his form of the White Wizard as he had been in Middle Earth, it was easy for him to find whom he sought; an elleth, young by the reckoning of her peers, but who had seen much sorrow in her short life.

Olórin found her lying in the soft grass near a spring which led to the river. She was bathed in the dappled sunlight, and was all the easier to spot for the bright yellow dress she wore and the tiny pink flowers threaded through her rich, brown hair which was spread out all about her in the grass. Her eyes were closed and she held a bound book over her stomach, which rose and fell steadily with her even breathing.

The Maia was glad to see that, after many years recovering in Aman, the elleth's light had returned and surpassed the brightness he'd seen in her whilst in marred Arda. When he had first encountered her the day he, Galadriel, and Elrond had arrived in Avallónë, it was clear by the weakness of her fëa that she was still recovering. But life in the Blessed Realm had clearly restored most of the light and joy in her life. Only one thing – or one elf, rather – could make her healing complete.

Olórin was at her side, looking down on her in amused interest for only a moment before she opened her blue eyes and beheld him. Immediately her face brightened.

"Good day, Olórin," she greeted him as he offered her his hand to help her rise. The Maia once known as Gandalf laughed.

"I think Bilbo would have a good laugh at your expense here, for he once greeted me in the same manner and I believe it led to much trouble for him," he said.

"He told me," the elleth replied, sadness reflecting in her eyes briefly though she smiled still. Bilbo Baggins had passed beyond the circles of the world some years ago. His nephew, Frodo, and his friend, Samwise, had passed only recently and within hours of each other. All of the Halflings were dearly missed by those who knew them.

"But Master Bilbo also told me the secret; It is good day because you have visited me," she added, winking.

"Oh, now, flattery will get you nowhere," Olórin quipped with a playful sparkle in his blue eyes, "but you are right that it is a good day."

"Oh?" She asked.

"Indeed! Tell me, Lady Anariel, is your house prepared?"

The elleth tipped her head, raising an eyebrow at him. "My house? For what?"

Anariel could not possibly fathom what Olórin meant by his question. The house, which was situated amongst the trees on the hill above her near where the spring came from the rocks, had been "prepared" in one sense or another for years. Upon her arrival in Aman, she was accepted into the court of wood elves who had come to live there. It seemed as though word had reached them before Anariel had come that she was one of their kin, and they were eager to see her situated with them. Her home was part of a larger settlement that included the houses of members of the Sindar and Silvan royal families.

For one accustomed to being busy, establishing what would be her home with Legolas when he arrived was helpful to her healing process. The need to look forward, day after day, to what the future held for them, gave her hope.

She stared at the Maia, flummoxed, for several moments before a tell-tale mischievous twinkle appeared in his eyes and he smiled.

"A grey ship sails West from Ithilien," he said.

At his very words, Anariel's body went rigid. There was only one possibility to which Olórin could be alluding, but she could scarcely hope for it, afraid she was mistaken. She held her breath.

"Come," Olórin laughed, "let us welcome your husband to Aman."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Legolas, calm down!" Gimli shouted angrily at his friend.

"You could sooner tell a bird not to fly, friend!" Legolas called down to the dwarf from his precarious perch hanging from one side of the mast above the sail, watching the horizon as the shoreline grew larger and larger before his eyes.

Their ship had just passed beyond what could be seen of the Peak of Meneltarma and into the Straight Road. Legolas realized that their ship seemed to be sailing itself, guiding them to the Havens at Avallónë. And then, he'd sensed it – a tug on his heart, one like he had not felt for a hundred years.

He'd reached out to her, and even though he had expected it, feeling her response shocked him. She was there – Anariel – he could feel her ahead of him; strong, healed, and waiting. The restlessness that Legolas had felt in Middle Earth seemed to increase threefold as the grey ship slowly, but surely, made its way towards Tol Eresseä.

"Legolas! I cannot sail this ship by myself!" The dwarf shouted again, exasperated.

"Let the ship take us where it may! Where is your sense of adventure, Gimli?" Legolas called down, laughing.

Gimli stared back incredulously at Legolas, throwing his arms up in the air out of frustration. The dwarf muttered and walked away. Legolas heard every word he said, but chose not to acknowledge them as he turned his keen sight back to the shore.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Anariel felt it the moment he entered the Straight Road. A restlessness that was not her own crept into her consciousness as she, Olórin, and some of the other Sindar who rode with them continued on horseback down the road under the trees on the outskirts of Avallónë. Curious, she reached out, and she was so surprised at Legolas' enthusiastic response that she nearly fell off her horse. She gasped audibly.

The Maia looked over at her and smiled. "They are making good time," he remarked.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"There!" Legolas cried. He was still balanced upon the mast, but when he saw the Havens growing on the horizon, he swooped back down to deck. He grabbed the sail line as he went, releasing more of the canvas to catch the wind.

Gimli could do nothing but laugh in response. "I am glad to see that your enthusiasm has returned, if nothing else," the dwarf said as Legolas landed on deck next to him behind the wheel.

Legolas simply smiled at Gimli and put his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. His eyes were searching the pier as it came into view. Indeed, his heart was racing and his mind was thinking at least a hundred thoughts for every second that passed by. Certainly Anariel was there, waiting for him, but how would he find her? Was she truly healed, or had she continued to suffer, waiting for him? Was she angry for his long absence?

"Legolas," Gimli's voice jerked the elf out of his anxious spiral. He looked down and saw Gimli still staring ahead at the growing swath of land before them, an apprehensive look on his face.

"What is it, my friend?"

"Will you live amongst your people – the Sindar in Elvenhome – when we arrive?"

Legolas frowned, not understanding the motive behind this question. "Why do you ask, Gimli?"

Gimli looked up at him and paused. In that moment, Legolas did not see the eyes of the old, wizened friend before him, but the young and eager dwarf who feared the Paths of the Dead, and endured them for fealty and friendship anyway.

"You do not suppose … That is," Gimli stammered at first, and then his words came flying out in one breath, "I certainly had nothing to do with Thingol's death or the Sack of Doriath, but your kin have long memories and – "

"Do not fret, Gimli," Legolas interrupted. "I do not presume to know the minds of the Valar, but I do not believe they would let you pass the Straight Road if they did not have a place for you to live in peace here."

Gimli stared at Legolas hard, as if he wasn't entirely sure the elf wasn't telling a tall tale. Legolas tipped his head to the side and smirked.

"I will stand by you, Gimli. And if that does not inspire confidence, Lady Galadriel will certainly stand by you. I cannot imagine many elves would dare cross the granddaughter of King Finwë, High King of the Noldor," he said.

Finally, Gimli smiled and nodded. "Thank you, lad," he replied quietly.

Both elf and dwarf turned their attention back to the shore. Legolas could see folk gathering there, waiting to greet them, but he could not discern any individuals for the sun was low in the sky and making it difficult to stare, even for an elf. As the distance between the ship and the pier closed, though, faces became visible. The prince could see Lady Galadriel was foremost among the crowd, along with Lord Elrond and an elleth who was presumably his wife, Lady Celebrían, but Legolas recognized few others. Anxiety began to tug at him again as they neared the shore and he could not see Anariel. He reached out to her with his fëa, and felt her respond happily, and with a certain amount of coyness, _I am here_. Legolas frowned. Where?

His wife was still not in sight when it came time to guide the ship into the wharf. Gimli helped Legolas pull up the sail as their ship pulled between two piers and some elves from the shore, Teleri by the look of them, jumped aboard to help with the ties. They each cast more than once glance at Gimli, but said nothing as they went about their work. Within a few minutes, Legolas and Gimli were disembarking to the wharf.

"Welcome, Legolas Thrandulion, Lord of the Elves of Ithilien, and to Gimli, Elf-Friend, Lord of the Glittering Caves; last of the Fellowship of the Ring," Galadriel pronounced, walking toward them with her arms open in greeting.

Legolas put his hand to his breast and bowed his head. He caught a glance of Gimli mirroring his actions as he turned a bright shade of red. The prince could hear a stir among some of the elves at the mention of Gimli's race. A twinge of concern gnawed at Legolas.

"Never before have welcomed the Children of Aulë among us here in Avallónë," a voice came from the crowd. Legolas and Gimli both raised their eyes and followed Galadriel's gaze, which rested upon the elf lord who had spoken. Legolas could see by his dark hair and eyes that he was one of the Sindar, but was not otherwise known to the prince. Legolas looked back to Galadriel, who was regarding the Sindarin elf sternly, but she did not speak up to contradict him. The moment became tense, and then, a voice came from behind the crowd.

"This one I may speak for."

The voice was familiar, and different, but Legolas and Gimli both knew it regardless.

"Gandalf!" The dwarf cried happily.

Sure enough, some of the elves parted to make way for the Maia. Much like his voice, Mithrandir had completely changed, though his presence was the same, but not weary or grave as it had been in Middle Earth. He was ageless, more beautiful than any elf Legolas had ever known, and had shed all his cares and troubles. The Maia's blue eyes looked upon the two newcomers mirthfully, and he smiled.

"What say you, Olórin?" Galadriel asked, smiling conspiratorially. The Maia came forward, stopped short just in front of them and winked. Legolas could not help but smile as Olórin then stood by Gimli's side and began to address the crowd.

"At the behest of the Lady Galadriel, who foresaw his coming, I have brought the case of Gimli Elvellon before the Valar. I described to them his unselfish deeds as a member of the Fellowship of the Ring, which saved Middle Earth from certain doom. The Valar, already knowing of Gimli's great actions, agreed to grant him passage into these Undying Lands for the remainder of his days,"

Then, Olórin laid a hand on Gimli's shoulder. "So yes, welcome, dear friend, to Tol Eressëa," he declared joyfully.

There was a murmur of assent among the crowd. Legolas could feel Gimli exhale in relief, and he patted his friend's shoulder.

"Come, Lock Bearer," Galadriel said, extending her hand towards the dwarf, "I shall introduce you to our friends here."

Looking the happiest Legolas had ever seen him, Gimli strode forward and took Galadriel's hand and went alongside her as the Lady formerly of the Golden Wood began to make introductions.

Olórin wordlessly stepped aside Gimli and Galadriel, all the while his gaze fixed upon Legolas.

"It gives me joy to see you again, Legolas," he said, still smiling mischievously, "and I look forward to all of your tales of life after my departure from Middle Earth. But there are others here with a greater claim upon you that I."

The Maia tilted his head to indicate that Legolas should look back towards the crowd. The elf arched an eyebrow, but turned to look before him. The prince's eyes fell upon two elves who had moved to the forefront of the crowd, and his heart nearly stopped.

Legolas had not known either in his life in the Woodland Realm, but knew them by his heart. The blond-haired, blue-eyed ellon looked as regal as he had in depictions of him in the Elvenking's halls. He still wore a crown of leaves and was still adorned in the green and brown colors of his homeland, and smiled as though he was privy to some wonderful secret. On his arm was a dark-haired, dark-eyed elleth whose kind, warm smile nearly sent Legolas to his knees.

"Daeradar," Legolas breathed, "Naneth!"

"Welcome, my grandson!" Oropher's deep voice rumbled straight from Legolas' ears to his chest. The prince could do nothing but stare, mouth gaping wide open. In all of his wildest imaginings, he'd never expected to meet either his grandfather or his mother in the Blessed Realm.

Almwen slipped her arm out of Oropher's and ran to her son, wrapping Legolas in her arms as she laughed mirthfully and tears shone in her eyes. Barely comprehending all that was happening, Legolas returned her embrace.

"Legolas!" His mother cried happily as she held his face in her hands kissing his cheek, "It gives me such happiness to finally look upon you."

Overwhelmed, tears brimmed in the prince's eyes as he beheld his mother – real, and in the flesh – for the first time since his birth. "Naneth, I ... I had not expected..."

Almwen laughed and hugged him again. "I know, dear one. I am at a loss for words myself," she said, and then she stepped aside and let Oropher embrace his grandson.

"I am glad to finally meet you, child," said the King, "and I am anxious to hear all about you, and your great deeds. You shall also have to tell me how your father has kept in line. I am sure he has required some managing in my absence."

Legolas let out a bark of laughter, for Thranduil had often commented that Oropher was the one in constant need of shepherding. "He is well looked after, between my brothers and his several grandchildren," he managed to reply. Oropher's eyes lit up and he smiled widely. "I shall tell you all about them, I promise," the prince added.

"Yes, well, there will be time enough for tales of our kin once you are settled. But for now, there is yet one other who waits for you," replied Oropher with a twinkle in his eye. Legolas felt a spark fly through him at the suggestion, and began to scan around the dispersing crowd of elves, looking for his wife. Even as he was reunited with dear loved ones, anxiety had been growing in him that Anariel was not there.

As it so happened, Anariel had hidden herself a few elves deep in the crowd. That she lingered behind was completely of her own design; on the road to Avallónë she had suggested to Oropher and Almwen that they should be the first to greet Legolas. She had enjoyed her mother- and grandfather-in-law for a hundred years, and thought her husband should have a chance to greet them first. Though she was trembling with anticipation to go to him, she stubbornly held herself back. Her heart swelled with joy as she watched Legolas meet his mother for the first time and hoped that one day she may be blessed enough to be reunited with her parents. But, for now, seeing her husband's light returning was enough. In his astounded, happy face, she saw all of what they could look forward to in the future. Her healing, in that moment, was complete, and she was ready to help her husband do the same.

Oropher said something to Legolas that she did not hear, but she saw her husband look around, his eyes seeking through the crowd. Almwen and Oropher exchanged amused looks with each other. Anariel could feel Legolas reaching out with his fëa, trying to find her. She took a breath, and waited for him to lay eyes on her.

For his part, all Legolas could see were elves dispersing from the pier at first. And then, a flash of yellow from within the host caught his eye. Legolas froze, somehow afraid that if he moved, he would have imagined seeing her. Again, some of the elves parted and his eyes landed on her. To the prince, all the world went still.

Anariel was there, watching him from where she stood several elves deep in the crowd. When their eyes met, his wife's face broke into a smile, and Legolas could do nothing but stand rooted to where he was on the wharf, amazed by her fully-realized light and beauty. How pitiful he must look to her, he thought, broken and weary as he was. But for the vast difference between them, Anariel did not seem to look upon him with pity or concern. He could feel the love she had for him ebbing across the wharf to him, and words Lord Elrond spoke to him long ago echoed in his mind:

_"… and she will be your light." _

Tears brimmed in his eyes again as he let out a breath, and he smiled.

A laugh of joy escaped Anariel's lips, and the sound of her voice in his ears was an overwhelming catalyst. He could not stop himself from breaking into a sprint, weaving through the crowd of elves until he had collided with his wife and seized her in his arms. More of her musical laughter filled his ears as she returned his crushing embrace by wrapping her arms around his neck, surrounding him with her fëa. The restlessness that had encompassed his life for over a hundred years was suddenly gone, replaced by peace and love imparted to him by his wife.

He pulled back, tears freely falling down his cheeks, and looked into her sparkling blue eyes. Anariel said nothing; she only smiled at him and ran her fingers over the sides of his face, brushing some of his stray hair behind his ears. He leaned down and claimed her lips in a kiss, which she returned fervently. Her hands, which had lingered at the top of his neck, found their way back into his hair and past his eartips, and he instinctually pulled her closer to him.

Finally, when they pulled away from each other, Legolas found his voice. "I am so sorry, my love," he said, his voice breaking. Anariel's eyebrow tweaked upwards and she looked at him somewhat incredulously, though she still was smiling.

"Why?" She asked.

He reached up and brushed a stray hair from her face, relishing the feel of her skin under his. "For leaving you... for your grief... everything. I cannot imagine what you have suffered, and I was not there... All of the time we've spent apart..." he managed, suddenly overwhelmed how inadequate he felt. For the first time since setting eyes on her, he looked away.

"Legolas," Anariel's voice was as gentle and warm as her embrace, and compelled him to meet her eyes once more. "I told you once that I would have endured much worse to be with you, do you remember?" She asked. Legolas could not help but smile, remembering the look on her face the night he discovered she'd followed him out of Mirkwood. He nodded.

"When we married, I did so because I loved you, not because I thought the road would be easy for either of us. And I am quite sure I fell in love with you because you are a rather uncommon elf, who was called to do rather uncommon things. We have each done what was required of us," she admonished in a reassuring, but playful way.

"And now," she continued, "your task is done, and it is time to go home."

He smiled, and was about to reply, but laughter from behind him distracted them both. Legolas turned his head and Anariel peered over his shoulder to see that Olórin had apparently introduced Gimli to Almwen and Oropher, and they were sharing a laugh – probably at Legolas' expense – but the prince could not help but be wholly content in that moment as he saw his loved ones so happy. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Legolas began to feel hope for the future.

Legolas turned back to Anariel, and his eyes caught sight of the leaf pendant he had given her so long ago, and he smiled. He reached up and took the leaf between his fingers, looking at it for a moment and wondering at how much the small adornment had seen in its existence. Something in his mind came together in that moment.

The prince let the pendant drop back against Anariel's skin and then took her face in his hands. She gazed at him, smiling steadily.

"I am home," Legolas said, and he leaned down and kissed her again.

So, after a long and weary journey, Anariel took her husband's hand and led him away from the city of Avallónë to the place she had prepared for them. Gimli came also and dwelt with them, and Oropher and Almwen in happiness and contentment for the rest of his days.

In his home with Anariel, Legolas began to find healing. Though there was sadness for a little while, with the help of his wife, and his family, his sorrows came to an end. The darkness faded, and forever there was light, love, and peace.

**I VETHED**  
_The end_

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**NOTES**

1. "Nan annûn" means "into the west" in Sindarin.

2. Some of you might have caught this, but what Thranduil says to Legolas at their parting is a reference to something Frodo says to Sam, which is arguably one of the more important themes of the books: _"I tried to save the Shire, and it has been saved, but not for me. It must often be so, Sam, when things are in danger: some one has to give them up, lose them, so that others may keep them."_ (The Grey Havens, The Return of the King)

3. Olórin, if you hadn't guessed, is Gandalf's name in Valinor. _"Many are my names in many countries… Mithrandir among the elves, Tharkûn to the Dwarves; Olórin I was in my young in the West that is Forgotten…"_ – The Window on the West, The Two Towers.

4. Regarding the Peak of Meneltarma and the Straight Road: _"Among the Exiles many believed that the summit of the Meneltarma, the Pillar of Heaven, was not drowned for ever, but rose again above the waves, a lonely island lost in the great waters;for it had been a allowed place, and even in the days of Sauron none had defiled it. And some there were of the seed of Eärendil that afterwards sought for it, because it was said among loremasters that the farsighted men of old could see from the Meneltarma a glimmer of [Valinor]…_

"_Thus in the after days, what by the voyages of ships, what by lore and star-craft, the kings of Men knew that the world was indeed made round, and yet the Eldar were permitted still to depart and to come to the Ancient West and to Avallónë, if they would. There for the loremasters of Men sad that a Straight Road must still be, while the new world fell away, the old road and the path of memory of the West still went on, as it were a mighty bridge invisible that passed through the air of breath and of flight… until it came to Tol Eressëa, the Lonely Isle, and maybe even beyond to Valinor…"_ – Akallabêth, The Silmarillion. Hat-tip to Nilmandra for her depiction of this in her "History Lessons: The Third Age." (Seriously, GO READ IT).

Additional fun fact, and a little of un-intended foreshadowing on my part: Legolas and Anariel almost read this part of The Silmarillion back in Chapter Six of _The Last Green Leaf_. Nestadriel interrupted them a few paragraphs before the above excerpts.

5. "Elvellon" means "elf-friend" in Sindarin.

6. On Almwen and Oropher's return; "_Those fëar, therefore, that in the marring of Arda suffered unnaturally a divorce from their [bodies] remained still in Arda and in Time. But in this state they were open to the direct instruction and command of the Valar. As soon as they were disbodied they were summoned to leave the places of their life and death and go to the 'Halls of Waiting': Mandos, in the realm of the Valar. _

_If they obeyed this summons different opportunities lay before them. The length of time that they dwelt in Waiting was partly at the will of Námo the Judge, lord of Mandos, partly at their own will. The happiest fortune, they deemed, was after the Waiting to be re-born, for so the evil and grief that they had suffered in the curtailment of their natural course might be redressed." _– Laws and Customs of the Eldar, Morgoth's Ring.

Oropher, in "The Tale of Thranduil and Almwen," was a generally joyful elf with a love of life and I think he would have liked to come back. Almwen, similarly, might have been inclined to remain in The Halls of Waiting if it weren't for Legolas' coming to Aman. At the risk of making the ending a TOO-happily-ever-after, I just felt like they needed to be there.

* * *

**ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS**

First and foremost, all gifts I have come from God, and to him all thanks are given for the inspiration and drive to finish this story in its entirety.

Tolkien's works have been a joy in my life since the day I first saw _The Two Towers_ (yes, I started out with the movies – sorry life-long book fans). I have read all the books I could get my hands on. I can honestly say that the books changed my life in ways wholly unexpected, and they still have an effect on me every time I re-read them. And obviously this story wouldn't exist if he'd never written The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings.

Particularly, for those who are interested, the following books have been incredibly helpful in the creation of this story: The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings (especially the Appendices in ROTK), and Morgoth's Ring.

Also of great help to me were the Elvish resources from Arwen-Undomiel, Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary, and Ardalambion.

I'd also like to acknowledge some of the authors whose writing has been inspirational and instructive to my own writing. You can find their stories in my "favorites" section, and I really do recommend you check them out! Thanks to Starlight9, Nilmandra, Thundera Tiger, Scribe, and VanaTheEverYoung (who may be found on Open Scrolls Archive).

It is so strange, and in some ways a little sad, to finally be finished. This story has been part of my life for nearly ten years, and to be able to move on to other things and dream of other stories is strange and wonderful. Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me – especially those of you who were around for the first edition and had to wait for me to finish writing – as I struggled to bring this story about. I have been humbled over and over again by your kind and thoughtful feedback. I hope the ending brought you as much joy as it brought me to write.

Thank you again, and blessings to you,

_Vendie. _


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